


Happenstance

by maydayparade8123



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Percy's a writer, Superstition, he's rly cute too, this is one of my favorite things i've ever written tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydayparade8123/pseuds/maydayparade8123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy's a bit superstitious, and Annabeth's a little too busy trying to be busy. Fate's not always cruel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote earlier this year! I completely fell in love with Percy's character, honestly, and I hope you do, too.

Annabeth was sure an anxiety attack was well on its way.

Not only was her hair pinned up haphazardly—a stark contrast to her typically perfected ponytail—but now she was running late.

The four-laned road was so congested with cars that she hadn’t moved for the last ten minutes. Living in the city, she was more than used to traffic, but it seemed that today was simply not her day. Annabeth’s pressed button up already had a stain on it from slamming on the brakes at the beginning of what she would later note as the most inconvenient traffic jam of her life. She couldn’t find her cat this morning. She was nursing three burned fingertips after taking her bagel straight out of the toaster. With her coffee—which had initially burnt her tastebuds—chillled, Annabeth was sure it couldn’t get any worse. That is, until she felt a sharp pain in her foot, alerting her that her body didn’t agree with her choice of shoes.

The only good luck she’d had was the fact that she remember the file folder of her next client—attempting to sell a gorgeous four bedroom, two bathroom house—but it would all be in vain if she couldn’t make it to the showing in time.

She inched her car forward, simply to feel like she was going  _somewhere_  and not wasting her time. Tapping her hands to the beat of a song on her steering wheel entertained her for all of a moment, and Annabeth scowled as she realized her ADHD was acting up. She had mellowed out for the most part, almost as soon as she hit her twenties, but now, she couldn’t seem to sit still.

Disinterestedly, she glanced at the older woman on her right nearly dozing off in the morning traffic. Annabeth watched her yawn twice, glancing away sharply when the lady noticed her gaze. Swinging her head to the left, utterly desperate for some source of entertainment before she went absolutely crazy, Annabeth elicited a sharp pain in her upper back, adding to her unfortunate day. Feeling like she wanted to hit something,  _repeatedly_ , she watched the car before her’s brake lights flick on as they pulled forward.

Cheering sarcastically to herself, Annabeth let off the brake and moved for only a small second before stepping on them again. Groaning in annoyance, she changed the station three times before settling on the news channel and redirecting her gaze to the right once more.

She nearly snorted at the sight of a man—who could no older than his mid-twenties—hitting his head on the wheel of his car, unceasingly. He seemed to be muttering something to himself—probably curses, if he was anything like Annabeth—as he dropped his head a final time. Considering copying his actions, she continued to watch the entertaining man as he bolted upright and fumbled in the backseat for some unknown object.

When he resituated himself to face the front again, Annabeth found the will to stop staring at the man (but that didn’t stop her from noticing his god-like appearance). Annabeth tuned into the news channel for all of five seconds before unconsciously letting her eyes wander to the man locked in traffic next to her.

He was scribbling manically on a pad of paper, as though his life depended on it. Shoving the pen in his mouth for safekeeping, he ran his hand over the sheet, closed the notebook and—

 _Oh, dear god. He saw her staring._  Wanting to kick herself, Annabeth snapped her head back forwards and changed the radio station again before casting her gaze upon the man once more. He was smiling at her like he knew a secret she didn’t, which made her want to ask him everything. He still had a pen in his mouth, and he looked admittedly stupid when he nodded to her in greeting.

Mortified that he’d caught her glance a second time, Annabeth nodded back to him uncomfortably, inching forward into room she probably shouldn’t. Her jaw clenched and unclenched with the effort of not looking at the man—who  _did_  look like a god, as much as she wished to deny it—and she busied herself by scanning her eyes over the file of her client, which she had more or less memorized.

_Asking for at least three bedrooms and two baths. Asking for—_

Annabeth inhaled sharply at the noise of something hitting her car window. It didn’t sound like a rock, but it was enough to make her jump out of her skin. She turned to the right, the origin of the noise, her expert glare in place. The man,  _oh, his eyes_ , was leaning slightly out of his window and waving. Taking a deep breath, Annabeth rolled down the window of the passenger seat.

"What," she asked simply, “did you throw at my car?"

Folding his arms over the windowsill of his car and leaning his chin on his hands, the man let a stupid smile adorn his face. “A piece of paper. Balled up."

Annabeth pursed her lips, examining the man’s tanned face. “Why?"

"I needed to tell you something," he answered simply, digging into his pocket. He pulled out a stack of small slips of paper, and Annabeth’s eyebrows furrowed as she recognized them.

"Fortunes?"

The man smiled lopsidedly. “Yep." He slipped one out from underneath the rubber band the held them together, glancing up absently as the traffic moved a little. “Progress," he muttered bitterly, slamming on the brakes not a second later. "’ _A fresh start will put you on your way_ ,’" he read from the paper, thereafter dropping the slip into the foggy morning. “Your lucky numbers were 3, 2 and 83." It swayed down the highway, riding the wind, and Annabeth looked at him as though he were crazy—which he  _had_  to be. He grinned, shoving the stack of papers back into his pocket and nodding to himself.

"What was that all about?" Annabeth asked, having to shout a bit over the hum of engines.

He shrugged, tracing the circle of the car wheel. “You looked like you could use a good omen."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, and started rolling up her window.

"Wait!" the man yelled. “What’s your name?"

"Susanna," she answered, deciding to give a false name. Good-looking or not, Annabeth didn’t want a stalker. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the window had sealed her car shut. She gave him a pointed look, alerting him that he should roll his window up too, but the green-eyed man shook his head, pulling the same notebook out of his pocket and leaning it against the wheel. When he finally held up what he’d been writing, Annabeth could just barely make out six words.

_Your name is so not Susanna._

Annabeth gave him a blank stare when he sent her a look. Facing forward again, and barely restraining from getting out of her car and  _walking_  to work, Annabeth created a mental list of her tasks for the day.  _Show the Robinson’s the house. Sell them the house. Report back to the office. Buy her boss a coffee to soften her up. Apologize for being late. Paperwork. Check inbox. More paperwork. Lunch break. Send out e-mails. Ask her boss if she needed anything else. Do whatever she says. More paperwork. Calls. Verify appointments for—_

She sucked in a sharp breath when yet another noise startled her. With barely contained fury, she rolled down her window, the slow speed contrasting her hot annoyance. " _What_  do you want?"

"A real name. I’m Percy. Twenty-three. Currently late for work," he introduced easily, waving. “And this traffic would be much more pleasurable with you speaking to me." Annabeth examined the man, taking in the way his hands restlessly tapped at the wheel as his eyes skipped from her face, to her car, to the car in front of her, to the sky above them, and around thirty other places. She saw the way he was jumpy and recognized it, having seen it in herself not ten minutes before.

"Susanna," Annabeth persisted. “Twenty-three, also. Currently in jeopardy of losing a client."

"Lawyer?"

"Real estate agent," Annabeth corrected, scowling. “Stop talking to me. Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers?" She began rolling the window up again, but Percy shook his head simply.

"Your name’s not ‘Susanna’!" he called. Annabeth rolled her eyes, flipping the radio stations before settling on a song that was vaguely familiar. She was able to accelerate for maybe two seconds in ten minute intervals, if she was lucky. Which,  _she wasn’t._ Halfway quoting books in her head and halfway staring at the sky through her sunglasses, Annabeth thought her impatience would be the death of her.

Hearing her phone ring, Annabeth winced as she flipped it open, expecting an irritated call from her employer or her client. “Annabeth Chase."

"I knew that wasn’t your real name!"

Annabeth started and dropped her phone, letting off the brakes for a moment and almost hitting the bumper of the minivan in front of her. She glanced over at Percy, astonished, and he smiled, pointing to the side of the car with the phone still pressed to his ear.

Almost copying Percy’s action of hitting his head on the wheel, Annabeth recalled the fact that she was in her work car, which just so happened to have her phone number on the side for “All of your real estate needs!"

Percy gestured for her to get her phone, and Annabeth followed directions, promptly hanging up. Now, the man even knew her last name,  _and_  her phone number.

When her phone rang a few minutes later she didn’t even glance down at it,  _knowing_  it would be Percy, the mental man next to her. However, when the first call was followed by a second call, she spared a glance at the screen. Her eyes just about fell out of her head. She picked up her phone at lightning speed, pressing answer with the enthusiasm of a toddler around brightly colored objects.

"Annabeth Chase!" she answered professionally, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Why do I have a client calling me with complaints?"

Annabeth sighed. “I’m running late, Ms. Jensen."

"You should have foresaw the traffic and left your home early. You  _had_  an appointment today," Ms. Jensen snapped.

"Had?" she squeaked.

"They left after their twenty minute wait," Ms. Jensen replied in a clipped tone. “And they said they loved the look of the house, too."

"I’m—"

"Ms. Chase," she interjected. “This is not the first time you have committed an infraction."

"I know, Ms. Jensen," Annabeth reasoned. “But it’s the traffic; I think there was a wreck on—"

"We are not required to keep unprepared employees, Ms. Chase."

"I understand that," Annabeth hurried to reassure her, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in her throat.

"Then you will understand why I must ask you to not return to work," Ms. Jensen stated simply. “Good day, Ms. Chase."

"Ms. Jen—" The harsh tone alerted her that the she had been hung up on.

This time, Annabeth did drop her head to the wheel, laying on the horn and probably pissing off the minivan driver in front of her. Muttering curses that she wasn’t even sure she would say in front of some sailors, Annabeth drank the last sip of her chilled coffee.

When the sound of a paper ball hitting her window reached her ears, she considered homicide. “What do you want?" she ground out, after rolling the window down, just barely enough to hear his voice carry through.

"Are you okay?"

"Jobless, other than that, I’m just peachy," Annabeth answered snarkily. She bit the inside of her cheek and focused on suppressing the burning behind her eyes.

"I’m sorry," Percy said, offering his condolences. “‘A fresh start will put you on your way.’"

"This isn’t a fresh start!" Annabeth snapped. “This is the end of my life!"

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure you’re still breathing. You’ll be fine."

His tone was light, almost playful, as though he were teasing her. Annabeth scowled deeply, rolling up the window for the last time, and trying to ignore the way Percy yelled the fortune at her just before the window closed him out.

 _Jobless_. Annabeth was  _jobless_. Feeling like scum, horrible, unemployed, low-life scum, she looked over her outfit she’d carefully crafted to please the client. Yellow was Mrs. Robinson’s favorite color; Annabeth had bought a hideously pastel yellow shirt for  _no reason_. With spite, she began to unbutton the shirt she hated and ended up ripping half of the buttons off in anger.

Her pale blue tank top was left, which made her feel a bit of freedom as she tossed the abominable shirt into her backseat. Annabeth flipped open a compartment, slid her sunglasses out and took her hair out of the clip she’d had it in. All for nothing. She was in traffic for nothing. She was being harassed by Percy for nothing.

Cautiously, she shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, only catching the end of his smile as he shook his head. She wanted to ask him what was so funny; why he felt the need to make everyone feel like he knew more than they did, but the van in front of her gave her a smidgen of leeway, distracting her for the moment.

**xxxxx**

Annabeth sped as she was released from the wrath of Los Angeles traffic. It was ten in the morning, and since she didn’t have a job, she didn’t have a single thing to do. Tapping her hands unconsciously along the span of her wheel, Annabeth decided she hadn’t waited in traffic for an hour and a half simply to go back home and wallow in self-pity.

In fact, she wanted to do exactly the opposite.

Annabeth was going to go to the beach.

**xxxxx**

A Wal-Mart swimsuit and thirty minutes later, Annabeth was biting into a bagel, which, thankfully, was  _not_  burning her fingers. She was walking along the pier, glad that she’d had enough foresight to keep and extra pair of old shoes in her trunk. Unluckily, they were her Converse, and Annabeth could only imagine how much of a sight she was, strutting down the pier in a blue bathing suit and grey Converse, a bagel half-shoved in her mouth. However, most people the beach was either too involved in their own affairs, or even more odd than her, to care.

She finished her breakfast as she walked over the ocean on the wooden boards, stopping once to pull her half-on Converse completely over her heel. After the bagel was done and over with, Annabeth made a U-turn for the sandy beach, humming Michael Buble to herself.

It’d been awhile since she’d been able to be in the atmosphere of sand for miles and waves crashing relentlessly; the smell of salty ocean whirling around her as the wind helped keep her hair out of her face. The closest she’d gotten was selling a beach condo to a filthy rich couple who would never use it the way it deserved to be used. Now that she was here, it was safe to say that she didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Cursing herself for not packing her iPod like instincts had been telling her that morning, Annabeth kicked off her Converse, hanging them from two fingers while letting the water rise to her ankles. Hoping that Thalia was working today, she made her way down the beach with the water kissing her ankles.

The “Breezy Freeze Snowball Truck" had been manned by Thalia Grace, Annabeth’s official best friend, for the last three years. She’d started the merchandise when she had seen one on another beach, and noticed that Surfrider Beach lacked shaved ice. A few calls and a lot of paperwork later, Thalia was a proud business owner, racking in customers by the dozens—from sweaty surfers to parched teenagers.

Annabeth’s Converse swung leisurely as she tried to avoid getting impaled with a surfboard. As far as she knew, Surfrider Beach was practically a magnet for tan teenage boys with stupid voices and long hair, riding the waves to their heart’s content. The water was filled today, the weather absolutely perfect for surfing.

Annabeth considered going and finding a surfboard of her own, but it’d been years. And even when she used to surf, she hadn’t been any good.

"Head’s up!"

Fast reflexes allowed Annabeth’s head to turn at a speed most people wouldn’t be able to manage, catching the football that had been hurtling her way with ease. She tried her best to glare at the group of adolescents, but they were just that: adolescents, and surely they didn’t know any better.

With a resigned sigh, Annabeth tossed the football back with suprising accuracy and strength. As one of the teenage boys gaped, she felt prideful of her athleticism. A few people called out their thanks, but she was already departing from the water and hiking up the beach to where Breezy Freeze should be.

Not two minutes later, Annabeth was approaching the powder blue truck and already deciding what flavor she’d partake of. The truck, however, was empty as far as she could see, so Annabeth cautiously called out a, “hello?"

"One moment!" a voice that was definitely  _not_  Thalia’s called back.

"Okay…" Annabeth muttered, craning her neck to see if Thalia was hiding, or—the more likely choice—sleeping on the job.

"What can I get for you?" A mop of black, curly hair ambled around the corner, red sleeves rolled up so that he looked like he was wearing a muscle shirt. Annabeth saw a questionable tattoo, reading “hot stuff" and she assumed it was the result of a night of hard partying. He looked almost elfish, with a grin that almost screamed trouble. “Tiger’s Blood is our special of the day!"

"Right," Annabeth answered distractedly. “Where’s Thalia?"

The boy shrugged, his lanky frame leaning on the counter. “She asked for a day off. Tiger’s Blood, then?"

Annabeth sighed at the luck of missing her best friend; it seemed nothing fortuitous could happen to her today. “No. Pina Colada."

"What size?" he questioned, turning around to find the container of her wish. “Small, medium, large?"

"Medium," she decided, slipping her iPhone out of her pocket and sending Thalia a text. “Thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t made you the best shaved ice Pina Colada of your life," he responded swiftly. His teasing wink would have made her brain go into defense mode, but the kid looked at least four years younger than her. He crafted her order with relaxed ease, something that Annabeth lusted after. Her job had never felt “relaxing" in all the three years she’d worked there. “Here you are!" he announced, sliding it over the counter. “One Leo-Supreme shaved ice for the lovely lady!"

She grabbed a spoon and took a bite, relishing the relief from the humid California air. “This really is great," Annabeth praised, smiling when Leo nodded smugly. “Thanks." She slipped a five dollar bill from her pocket, slapping it on the counter and telling him to keep the change, however much that was.

Resuming her task of walking down the beach, Annabeth wondered if it was such a good idea to be here. For one, explaining to her mother that she’d lost her job wouldn’t be a fun conversation,  _especially_  if she found out that Annabeth simply  _went to the beach_  afterwards as opposed to applying for new jobs immediately. It wasn’t good “management" or—

This was a nightmare. A really horrible nightmare, and surely,  _surely_  Annabeth would wake up soon only to find that all of her bad luck was the result of the pessimistic side of her brain infiltrating her dreams. She would have pinched herself, just to see if she’d wake up, but she was pinned to the ground by a guy when she opened her eyes.

A  _shirtless_  guy.

Annabeth probably blushed down to her toes after noticing their compromising position, but her senses came back a few moments later when she abruptly pushed him off. " _Excuse_  you."

"Annabeth Chase?"

"How do you know my—?"

Finally, belatedly, Annabeth looked up to the man’s face, seeing the same smile that had thrown paper balls at her car this morning. With a delay, she noted that her shaved ice was lying face down, the waves threatening to take it out to sea.

“ _Why_  are  _you_  here?" Annabeth snapped, standing up and shielding her barely clothed body with her beach bag.

Percy picked up a shirt off the ground, one that he seemingly had dropped when he fell on Annabeth, and held it by the shoulders to let her see it. “‘Animal Rescue Volunteer’?" she read, raising an eyebrow.

Percy nodded. “I’m a saint, what can I say?" He smirked, glancing her up and down and chuckling as she pulled her bag tighter against her body. “Here," he told her, picking up her shoes off of the ground where they’d fallen.

Annabeth almost stuttered, but her strictly business side took over. Holding the bag in place with her elbow, she gathered her shoes into her hands and avoided his gaze. “Well. Okay." She turned on her heel and started walking away from him as quick as humanly possible, but something hit her back. Twisting on her heel, Annabeth let a glare overtake her face.

His shirt laid on the ground in front of her feet, though Percy stood a foot or two away. “Walk with me."

"Stay away from me."

This only made Percy laugh, and he smiled that smile; the one that said he knew something about her that she didn’t. It made her scowl deepen. “Fair enough. But wait,"—he pulled the same stack of papers out of his pocket—"’ _The object of your desire will come closer._ ’" He grinned, letting the paper catch the wind and fly away. “Sounds good."

"I don’t desire anything besides a new snowcone," Annabeth muttered to herself. Percy laughed, an odd laugh too; one that gave her the notion that he hadn’t planned on laughing.

"Your lucky numbers are 2, 4, 26 and 23. I’ll buy you another. It’s my fault," Percy offered, already extracting his wallet from his pocket.

"I can buy it myself," Annabeth told him, her voice a bit cold, but he  _was_  harassing her.

"I know." Percy shook his head, chuckling lightly. “No need to get defensive. Look, here’s five dollars—"

"Like I want your money—"

"Annabeth Chase," Percy said, making Annabeth clench her teeth. He had no right to use her name, like they were  _friends_ , like he  _knew_  her. “Just take the money. For everything."

She thought five dollars didn’t necessarily cover “everything," but she decided to take it if only to get him off her back. He smiled, opening his mouth to say something else, but Annabeth said a curt goodbye and began her walk towards Breezy Freeze. It looked like she would be needing more shaved ice.

**xxxxx**

She was tired of staring at the ceiling.

Annabeth knew that life, while with the busy job of a real estate agent, was more than just  _tiring_ , but now that she didn’t have to be out the door by eight-thirty in the morning, Annabeth was feeling bored. None of her books were interesting enough to keep her interest for more than ten minutes. Thalia had neglected to answer her text. And, to top it all off, Annabeth had yet to call her mom and suffer the embarrassment of admitting she’d lost her job.

Food. Annabeth needed comfort food.

She snatched her phone off of her nightstand, calling up the closest pizzeria and ordering a large pizza with mushrooms and garlic crust. She gave them her name and her address, promising to pay in cash, and thanked them. As soon as she ended the call, she was already regretting it. Annabeth had been on a diet for almost a month, to keep in shape for… Why had she wanted to keep in shape again?

Annabeth scowled at the ceiling, rolling her eyes at herself and slipping a hoodie over her head, padding out of her room at eleven o’clock in the morning. As a luxury, she’d slept in for thirty minutes longer, but her internal alarm clock woke her up, leading to Annabeth attempting to entertain herself for a few hours before giving up and collapsing on her bed. Coffee was brewed on reflex; her caffeine addiction making the beverage like water to her.

When the doorbell rang, she flinched and spilt boiling hot coffee all over her hand, cursing her continuous unlucky streak. Yelping slightly and holding her hand with a firm grip to ease the burn, Annabeth hurried to the door. “Hey, sorry, just give me one moment; I’ve burnt my hand."

Without even making an attempt to give the person a proper welcome, she rushed back into the kitchen and let cold water from the faucet run over her red hand. “Sorry!" she called out again, already drying her hand on a towel and scrounging the counter for her wallet.

"Don’t worry about it," the person called back. Annabeth stopped, mid-search through her bag, and stared into air.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," she muttered, slowly creeping around the corner and peering into the living room.

Sure enough, there stood the same man from the traffic that morning, and the beach later. His hair was covered by a hat now, one with the logo of the pizzeria she’d ordered from, but the sun was hitting him from the perfect angle so that his eyes were illuminated: definitely green and definitely familiar. Annabeth glanced down at herself, noting that she was wearing shorts.  _Why did it seem she was always wearing the least amount of clothing when he was around?_

Mentally groaning, she returned to her purse and extracted a twenty, letting a glare wash over her face as she approached. “Why won’t you leave me alone?" Annabeth demanded.

Percy turned around instantly, laughing when he recognized her. “Well, hey there, Annabeth Chase."

"Here." She shoved the money into his hand and snatched her pizza. “Thank you. Bye."

"Wait!" Percy shoved his foot in between the doorframe and the door before she closed it on him. “You get, like, seven dollars back."

"I don’t want it," Annabeth replied. “I get the lurking feeling that you’re stalking me. How many jobs do you have, anyways?"

"Two," Percy answered conversationally. “I volunteer for marine animal rescue and deliver pizzas. The volunteering doesn’t really count as a  _job_  though, since I don’t get paid."

"Aren’t you colorful?"

"Says the girl wearing a bright green hoodie and rainbow shorts," he teased in amusement. Annabeth considered the pros and cons of slapping the pizza on his face, but she decided she was too hungry to sacrifice her food. Urging the door to close again with all of the strength she could muster, Annabeth slid the pizza box across the floor. Despite all of her best tries, Percy overpowered her and swung it open again. “Wait," he ordered, smiling at her to soften the command. “I have to read you something."

"If it’s another fortune—"

"You’re catching on!" He grinned at her as he pulled the stack of papers out of his pocket, humming to himself in a carefree manner and slipping a fortune out from underneath the rubber band. Annabeth leaned forward to read it before him, and accidentally hit her forehead against his chest. She immediately took two steps back, and Percy laughed at her, causing her deathly leer to come back. "’ _Conquer your fears or they will conquer you._ ’"

He dropped the fortune on the ground, just outside Annabeth’s door frame. She cocked her head to the side. “What is this? Why do you keep finding me and giving me fortunes?"

Percy shook his head. “Your lucky numbers are 5, 8 and 25. Do you really think I’d tell you  _that_  easily? No way, Miss Annabeth Chase. You’re going to figure it out for yourself." His eyes flickered inside her home; the small town house she’d only been able to afford thanks to the amazing salary she had. Or, used to have, anyways. “Nice place."

"Thanks," Annabeth said genuinely. The house had slowly become her making, as she remodeled and painted and customized it to her liking.

"Tell me if I’m intruding," Percy started, “but would you mind if I asked why you’re eating pizza alone?"

"Because I live alone," Annabeth replied simply, looking away when she carried on to say, “and I’m single." Her eyes flickered to his face for a moment, and Annabeth caught the end of a poorly concealed smile.

"Well, that’s good," Percy told her. “Must be nice to have the peace and quiet. Less of a hassle."

“ _You’re_  currently the hassle, Percy," Annabeth said sarcastically. He only laughed, and Annabeth couldn’t ignore the way his smile probably could have served as a substitute for the sun if it ever decided to burn out.

"I’ll get out of your hair then, Miss Annabeth Chase." With those words, he turned on his heel and walked down her driveway, waving to her as he got into his car. She didn’t wave back, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Annabeth hated when things were a mystery to her. She liked things that were secure and well-known, not things that were an enigma and vague. With an irritated sigh, she fell onto the couch and flipped open the pizza box.

Taped to the top of the box was a sheet of paper, light orange stains from the grease sinking into it.

_This’ll be weird if you’re not my Annabeth, but I think we keep running into each other for a reason._

She raised an eyebrow at the note, scanning the taped paper for any other words and finding none. “That was anticlimactic," Annabeth muttered to herself, sliding a slice with mushrooms and pepperoni dotted on it out of the box. Flicking on the television, she decided to allow herself a lazy day before she went job searching again.

Come to think of it, though, Annabeth didn’t really  _need_  a job, per se. She had enough savings to last her at least two years, between her leftover college grants and money from her parents. Still, a job would make Annabeth feel like she was getting something done, as opposed to wasting her life away watching the television and eating greasy pizza.

After Annabeth had downed three pieces of pizza, she decided to save the rest for dinner and maybe breakfast the next morning. She had to try several times to close it correctly; for whatever reason her hand-eye coordination was incompetent at the moment. However, the shaking and slamming of the lid brought something to her attention.

There was a back to the note.

And there were ten digits scrawled in messy handwriting that could only belong to her acquaintance, Percy.

**xxxxx**

It was three days before Annabeth cracked and called.

She’d spent the three days prior explaining to her mom that she was working it out, and planning on getting a new job. She’d tried to pay Thalia another visit, only to be met with the spitfire Leo, offering her a perfected pina colada “snowball." She’d attended multiple interviews for jobs she wasn’t given and had even taken to doing her spring cleaning early.

The number sat on the counter, tantalizing Annabeth every time she spared it a glance (her minimum was seven times a day). It wasn’t so much that she was  _interested_ , exactly, but he was a mystery, and Annabeth was a firm believer in the fact that no mystery should go unsolved. The ten digits had been stared at so intently that she’d unknowingly memorized it; that was a fact she’d only noticed as she dialed it on her cell phone without having to glance at the paper.

Dial tones. Her worst enemy, since they allowed her just the right amount of time to change her mind and—

"Hello?"

 _Shit_ , Annabeth thought.  _Why did I do this? What am I supposed to do? How do I—_

"Oh," Percy said, laughing as though he heard the joke of the century. “Hey there, Miss Annabeth Chase, lover of mushroom pizza and pina colada flavored shaved ice. It’s also my understanding that you enjoy long walks on the beach. How’s life?"

"Annoying," Annabeth admitted, “now that I’ve finally gone through with calling you."

"So, you were thinking about it?" She could almost picture his smug smile, and it scared her, how well she could manifest the expression in her mind.

"How’d you know it was me?" Annabeth dodged, changing the topic.

"I saved your number in my phone. Had a feeling we’d be talking again," Percy said simply. She heard rustling and pulled the phone away from her ear to escape the static. “So. I’m in my car. Where am I meeting you? You’re actually very lucky, Miss Annabeth Chase, it’s my day off."

"My name is Annabeth, only," she said in exasperation.

"Of course, Miss Annabeth Chase." His tone was nauseatingly unctuous.

"Who says I’m meeting you anyways?"

"Why else would you have called me? Surely it wasn’t just to chat."

Annabeth didn’t like how he already seemed to have her figured out. It was disarming, irritating, and  _so_  unfair seeing as she knew a very limited amount about Percy.

"Well?"

She scowled. “Why do I have to pick?"

"Because you need to have control."

"What kind of—?"

"Pick a place, Miss Annabeth Chase."

She smiled.

**xxxxx**

A library.

She wanted to meet him at a library.

Percy didn’t know whether that was cute because she had a nerdy side or annoying because it wasn’t the  _friendliest_  place for a date.

 _It’s not a date,_  the more thoughtful side of Percy’s brain reminded him. He ignored it.

Percy was born superstitious. At the age of six, he was carefully stepping over cracks on the sidewalk (given that he loved his mother dearly), avoiding all black cats, and never,  _ever_  walking anywhere near a ladder. His family couldn’t figure out where he’d gotten the gene from, seeing as his mother was much too rational to believe in something so silly, and his father could care less about anything besides the ocean. His step-father, Paul, wasn’t the least bit superstitious either.

Percy’s wish to be a writer was definitely something he’d inherited from Paul, blood-related or not. The way Paul talked about books, shared extravagant stories with him, and showed him how beautiful words could be made Percy fall in love with it. He didn’t know what to write, or how to start, or  _anything_ , really, but it seemed like a good enough dream. His therapy to help tone down his severe dyslexia had pulled through, leaving Percy with a brain that could in fact recognize the symbols that once looked like gibberish.

So, maybe the library wasn’t exactly  _abhorred_  by him, seeing as he had a distinct respect for books themselves, he just wasn’t all that into reading them. He wanted to write. He wanted to change people’s lives, and help them, or inspire them, or make them feel better. Percy knew he was an odd character, what with his superstitiousness and antics, but he was determined to only let it make him an even better writer.

Pulling his pocket size notebook out of his pocket, Percy scribbled a few sentences that he couldn’t seem to shake from his mind across the cerulean line.

_Why does the same thing happen over and over, like the repetition of the waves crashing on the shore? It lingers for just a bit—just long enough for you to memorize it’s presence—but then recedes, disappearing into the deep ocean. It doesn’t come back for a while. Your heart sinks as you long for the wave to come back—_

"Are you just going to stand there taking notes or are you going to talk to me?"

Jumping slightly, Percy belatedly noticed Annabeth’s arrival. With her sinfully tan skin and flawlessly curled hair, a perfect blonde to contrast the color of her skin, he couldn’t fathom why such a  _goddess_  was single. Moreso, he couldn’t fathom why she’d called. He’d done it half-way on a limb, believing that she would only see the number if fate allowed.

"Hey there, Annabeth Chase," Percy said, clicking his pen and shoving it into his pocket along with his orange notebook. From his other pocket, he extracted a stack of fortunes, slipping a random one out and humming in approval. "’ _A new adventure is on the horizon._ ’ Convenient that I was planning on asking you to run away with me, no?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile and plucked the fortune from his hand. “My lucky numbers are 33, 7, 84, 6 and 9." She dropped the fortune, watching it sail through the air until it rested on the carpeted floor. “What next?"

"You asked for this meeting," Percy accused, his hands raising up in a ‘hey, don’t look at me!’ manner. “I should be asking  _you_  what’s next."

Annabeth glanced around the spacious library, observing the sections of books; from adults to teenagers to children. “What’s with the fortunes?" she asked abruptly, locking her grey eyes on Percy’s face. He found himself a little unnerved by her steely gaze, but he stared right back, not willing to be intimidated.

"I’m superstitious."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, smiling for the first time, and Percy swallowed, trying to quench his suddenly dry throat. She was seriously beautiful, and Percy was seriously nervous. “Are you?"

"I am," he answered, praising whatever god there was for the fact that his voice remained steady despite all.

"As in, breaking mirrors—"

"Seven years of bad luck," Percy finished, glancing around as though he expected someone to break a mirror at that very moment. “Mirrors don’t just reflect your image, they keep bits of your soul locked inside. If you break it… things don’t go well."

"You believe that?"

"I do."

"That’s odd."

"What isn’t these days?"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes slightly, giving Percy a once over. “Do you always have an answer for everything?"

He laughed, freely and amused, not caring about the gazes of others in the otherwise silent building. “Usually, yeah." All he got was a neither approving nor disapproving glance before Annabeth abruptly walked away.

Dutifully, he followed her, having to quicken his typical leisurely pace to keep up with her as she winded through bookshelf after bookshelf. “Laugh and I’ll murder you."

Percy grinned down at her, though she was too busy running her hands across the spines of wethered books. “I don’t doubt it."

"I like odd things," Annabeth started, pulling a book off of the shelf. “Like architecture."

"Architecture," Percy repeated, taking the book from Annabeth. The front was plastered with an image of a familiar place; eight columns holding up a short triangular roof. He could tell the designs were intricate, probably something that aspiring architects went crazy over. “Not something I would have thought from you, but I can see why you’d like it. It’s elaborate, complex—"

"Permanent," Annabeth added. He opened to book and flipped through it mindlessly, appreciating the flow of the words rather than what they meant.

"Permanent," he agreed, shutting the book and flicking the cover. " _The Parthenon_ , then?" He’d caught the name somewhere within his scanning, which caused a spark in his mind. “It’s in Greece."

"I want to see it. In real life," she admitted, sitting down and leaning her back against the adjacent bookshelf. She had a second book in her hand, this time with some sort of arch on it.

"So…" he said, sitting across from her, leaving respectable space between them; the book shelves left large hallways. “You want to travel?"

"It’d be nice. It would take a lot of time, though."

Percy shrugged. “Why would it matter as long as you were where you wanted to be?"

Annabeth ceased in her turning of the pages, looking to Percy curiously. “I guess… it wouldn’t."

He smiled softly, meeting her gaze for a few seconds before fidgeting with the book in his hand. “I think I’d like to travel, too."

"And what do you want to be?" Annabeth’s attention was focused on the book in her hand, but she  _was_  listening to Percy. This was more or less and interview to see whether or not he was worth keeping around.

"Don’t laugh," Percy enjoined. She nodded sincerely. “A writer."

"What do you want to write?" she asked, not missing a beat.

"Something. Anything," he answered. “I mean, just something that’ll change someone’s perspective, or mean something to them. Just… something that can make a change. Something that matters."

Suppressing the rush of approval, Annabeth kept her nose in her book. “Seems like a good plan."

Percy shrugged. “Until then I’ll keep delivering pizzas to cute blondes who are surprisingly single," he teased. It was daring, but he figured he had nothing to lose. Annabeth could walk out of his life right now, and she’d be another “what-if." Plus, Percy’s whole being was based on superstition and split-second decisions.

"As long as you’re okay with cute blondes turning you down," Annabeth returned in the same tone, light and carefree. Percy turned his head, half-coughing and half-laughing into his shoulder.

"I think I’d find a way to win them over, somehow."

"Maybe they should know your last name before you try that," Annabeth hinted, looking up to him, setting the book aside. She repositioned herself to sit criss-cross, Percy mirroring her actions.

"My name is Percy Jackson. I want to be a writer, but I don’t know what I would write, really. I keep a notebook in my pocket so I can write all of the time. I love the beach—water in general, really. I like a lot of music. And I’m currently having the best day of my life talking to a stranger," he introduced himself, properly.

She smiled faintly, interlacing her hands and holding them in front of her crossed legs. “What kind of music?"

"Coldplay, OneRepublic, The Script, The Fray, et cetera. Your turn. Introduce yourself to me, Annabeth Chase. Sell it," Percy indulged.

Annabeth scowled. “I don’t know how to say it in a few sentences."

"Then talk for hours, I could care less. I wouldn’t mind sitting here all day surrounded by old books hearing your voice," Percy said.

Annabeth made a face. “Your writer side is showing."

"Poetic words?"

"Completely cheesy words," she corrected with a laugh. “I’m Annabeth Chase. I won’t appreciate compliments—"

"I’ll give them anyway."

"You won’t be giving  _anything_ if you don’t let me finish," she stated simply, shooting him a sarcastic look. Percy smiled, gesturing for her to go on. “I like architecture, and coffee. I hate not being busy. I hate when people throw balled up paper at my car," she continued, giving him a pointed look. “I like green and orange."

"Fascinating," Percy said, not adding a tinge of sarcasm. “You are an interesting person, Miss Annabeth Chase." He smiled at her warmly, and Annabeth had to wonder how one could project such earnest  _liking_  towards someone they’d talked to for maybe an hour, adding together all of their meetings.

As quick as Percy’s smile waned, he started and pulled out his notebook from his pocket, clicking the pen and writing at lightning speed. Annabeth watched his pen sweep across the paper in messy handwriting, his brain moving faster than his hand could write. He muttered to himself, and Annabeth was honored to see a writer in action.

It’s interesting, she’d admit, to see their face light up as inspiration strikes; their eyes bright and shining as they scribble down whatever genius idea that could one day be a best seller. Percy, though, was especially interesting. She felt like she was looking behind the curtain, behind his calm, carefree persona she was already used to from him. His facial expression changed several times along with his emotions, his pen halting or moving even more quickly. Watching Percy write was beautiful.

_I think that’s the point in which you’ve met your soulmate. When you get the chance to know them, every small detail is something great. Every small detail makes you feel more connected to them. And maybe you’ll argue, or disagree, but that’s all part of it. It’s all for the sake of finding someone you understand; someone who understands you. Agreeing doesn’t mean understanding._

Percy drew a line under his latest rambling (nearly half of his notebook was full of them), and he put his pen and notebook away. “Sorry," he said suddenly, looking utterly disappointed in himself. “I didn’t mean to just—you know, do that. It’s just… when inspiration comes, you know?"

Annabeth nodded mutely, studying him carefully.  _I’ll keep him around_ , she decided, already wondering if she’d regret it.

**xxxxx**

"Good morning, Annabeth Chase," Percy said, speaking into his phone in a suave tone. “I’m outside and ready to go job hunting."

"You are not," she deadpanned, redirecting her attention from the news to the door. “I swear if you are outside my door—"

"You need a job! I’m just here to motivate!" Percy defended. “Now come let me in."

"I barely know you," she answered, already walking towards the door.

"We spent, like, five hours together yesterday! You know my first name and my last name and my phone number and my favorite color and my likes and my dislikes and—"

"But I don’t really  _know_  you," Annabeth said,  _completely_  clearing that up for Percy. “We’ve just met."

"It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known someone, it matters how much you’ve connected with them," he pointed out.

She rested her hand on the doorknob, smiling despite herself. “Your inner-writer is showing."

"Open the door, Annabeth Chase."

Never one to take orders from someone like Percy, Annabeth hummed into the phone line. “Should I? Why?"

"Because I’m cute."

"No."

"Because I’m your friend."

"No."

"Because otherwise, I’m just going to sit out here all day serenading you with bad pop songs until someone calls the police and—"

Annabeth swung the door open, rubbing her forehead. “Trying to give me a headache before nine o’clock?"

"You should be lucky I’m up this early," Percy informed her, pushing his jacket sleeves up as he glanced around the house. “Nice place."

"You’ve said that before," she reminded him easily, changing the channel to a random movie on the Starz channel. “Breakfast?"

"Ate," he answered. “Did you? I’ll cook for you, if you want me to."

Annabeth raised an amused eyebrow. “You cook?"

"Guys can cook," Percy said defensively. “A lot of us are good at it, actually." Annabeth gestured for him to let himself into the kitchen and feel free to make anything from the food she had left in the refrigerator and pantry. She needed to go shopping, too. As if he read her mind, Percy yelled, “We’ll hit the grocery store today, too!"

"I don’t need a keeper!" Annabeth called back, her brow furrowing in annoyance.

Percy grinned, leaning around the corner from the kitchen. “Yeah, but you need me."

"And why is that?" she questioned, carrying her now empty coffee cup into the kitchen. He blocked her entry, staring her down.

"You need me because…" He trailed off, cocking his head to the side. “You need me because you need to chill out."

Shouldering her way past him, Annabeth wondered what had possessed her to let the man, who was virtually a stranger, inside her home. “I’m chill."

"Of course," Percy quipped, “and that’s why your shoulders are so tense." He tapped her upper back twice with the pads of his fingers, and Annabeth ignored the way the world seemed a little brighter for such a friendly tap. “Want a massage? Oil, candlelight, maybe some lavendar—"

"Please tell me you don’t try to pull that on your girlfriend," Annabeth said, holding up a hand. “I’d slap you if I were her."

"You  _could_  be her," Percy suggested, artfully pouring milk into a bowl of dry cereal. “I’m single and ready to mingle."

"Oh," she said simply, staring intently at the bowl of cereal he was crafting. She saw him smile out of her peripheral vision as he repeated her one-worded reply. Shying away from meeting his gaze, Annabeth dropped her coffee cup into the sink and accepted her “gourmet" cereal from Percy.

"Eat quick," he told her.

Annabeth scowled. “You, a stranger, are  _not_  telling me what to do in my  _own_  house." Percy only gave her a smile before helping himself to a bottle of water from the fridge.

"I won’t stay a stranger, knock on wood," he answered simply, tapping his knuckles on a cabinet twice. “Do you have any apples?" Annabeth nodded, her expression confused as she gestured to the fresh bowl of apples on the counter. Humming lightly, Percy picked on up and sat at the table next to her, pulling down his jacket sleeve to clean it off. He paused, seemingly thinking to himself, and she curiously took another bite of her cereal before watching the man start twisting the stem of his apple.

A few seconds later, it snapped off, and Percy’s face brightened considerably. “Well, that’s fortunate."

"I don’t get you," Annabeth stated simply, taking a break from her breakfast to lean back in her chair. “You’re so…  _odd_."

"You say that as if it’s a bad thing. I’d rather be crazy than normal, quite honestly. What’s the fun in that, Miss Annabeth Chase?" Percy raised an eyebrow before flicking the short apple stem in her direction. “All you need is some fun."

"The show me some, oh wise stranger in my house," she muttered, eating another bite of her cereal.

"I could take that one of two ways," he admitted, “but I’ve decided to take the gentlemanly route." Digging his hand in his pocket, Annabeth knew he was reaching for a small bundle of papers with fortunes printed across them; the result of too many nights with Chinese takeout, more likely than not.

"Well, what is it this time, Mister Percy Jackson?" she asked, mocking the way her used prefixes as well as first and last name. “Anything good?"

Smiling lightly at her, he shrugged. "’ _The time has come to stop listening to what your mind says._ ’ If that’s not an omen to date me, I don’t know what is."

Annabeth snorted lightly in laughter. “You hardly know me, you flirt."

"That sounded flirtatious."

"Men hear what they want to."

"And women don’t?" Percy challenged. “I’m pretty sure women could find a hidden ‘fat joke’ in every sentence a male says. Tell me I’m right." Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him, because  _maybe_  he was right, but no way would she be telling him. Almost as if he understood perfectly, Percy cracked a smile, saying, “Your lucky numbers are 23, 83, 68, 8, 7 and 3," before urging her to finish eating as he consumed the rest of his apple.

It wasn’t too long before they were exiting Annabeth’s bungalow and jumping into Percy’s car, by request. Annabeth tried not to focus so much on the fact that  _she was getting into a stranger’s car_ , and considered the fact that he didn’t seem like a murderer, so far. Maybe a bit strange, but he made it work. In a way.

He was changing the radio channels restlessly, humming for a few beats before moving on to a new station. Finally, he stopped at an older Coldplay song, nodding to himself and tapping his hands along the steering wheel.

Annabeth’s rash side was showing as she bluntly asked, “Do you have ADHD?"

Leisurely turning a corner, Percy nodded. “It was worse when I was younger. It’s a better now, though. Why?"

"I just, um, noticed. You’re kind of restless. Especially when we were in traffic," she explained.

_Is traffic really so bad? In the city life, we become accustomed to the fast lane; to the quickness and the need to rush everywhere we go. Traffic, in my eyes, is a blessing. It gives everyone a moment to slow down, and think. To look out at that horizon they passed every day, and notice how underappreciated it is. Life is beautiful, but too many people miss it due to the fact that the world never stops. But in traffic, just for a moment, it seems like it does._

Percy slammed on the brakes, veering over to the side of the road sharply and ignoring the angered drivers now passing him. “What—?" Annabeth stopped abruptly as he slid and orange notebook out of his pocket, leaning it against the steering wheel as he wrote vigorously, the words flowing through his mind faster than he could scribe them on paper. “Is this really the time?"

Percy shushed her, originally reaching out a hand to send her a quieting gesture, but he misjudged the distance and ended up with his fingertips resting on her face, one finger touching the corner of her lips. “Sorry," he said immediately, on reflex, meeting her gaze and belatedly removing his hand. Percy couldn’t look away as he said, “When inspiration strikes… I’ve learned to write it down right when it hits me. If I don’t, I lose a world of possibilities."

Annabeth nodded mutely, giving his face a once over before gesturing for him to continue writing or driving, whichever he needed to do. Percy half-coughed, half-blushed furiously, putting the car into drive and merging back onto the road.

He would later examine apart every second of the small happening to determine whether or not it was a  _moment_ , but for now, all he could do was drive and pretend his hand wasn’t shaking from the skin-on-skin contact.

It wasn’t like he’d felt a spark; nothing like the hackneyed “electrical current" bit, but it was more like the world was brighter. Before, it was black and white, yet now he could see every color on the spectrum. He could see himself pressing his lips to the exact same spot, pushing her hair behind her ear and letting his hand fall to rest there, soaking up the feeling of her soft skin.

Superstitious as he was, Percy was a firm believer in soul mates. He should have known that Annabeth would be; the night before he’d met her, he dreamt of a monstrous snake winding it’s way around his body choking him. It was a tell-tale sign that his soulmate was on the way according to the article on Thai superstition he’d researched.

The feeling he’d gotten with Annabeth simply couldn’t have been anything else besides the stars aligning to let him know that he’d found her. Maybe at twenty-three, with a mildly lousy, low paying job, but finally he found  _her_. Curiously, absorbing the information, he sent Annabeth a sideways glance, watching as her eyes flickered over their surroundings. Her eyes continued glinting from dark grey to silver and back again.

"Where to first, Miss Annabeth Chase?"

**xxxxx**

"Sorry!" Annabeth yelled in alarm, sticking her foot out at lightning speed to stop the door from slamming into Percy. “I’m just used to closing the door after me."

"It’s fine," he assured her. “I wasn’t killed in the process, so it doesn’t matter to me." Annabeth led him into the kitchen, carrying a large brown paper bag with groceries. (Percy carried the other two, and maybe she could see  _just_  how toned his arms were, but that’s irrelevant.) “All right," he said, sighing and leaning against the counter, “are we putting this babies away?"

"If you think I want to leave three unsightly brown paper bags on my counter, you’re sadly mistaken," was her reply as she started pulling objects out of the bags. “You don’t have to help, though."

"Quality time with Miss Annabeth Chase?" Percy said in a suave tone, questioningly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

Completely ignoring the comment (locking it away and saving it for a time when she wanted to hear it), Annabeth opened the fridge, storing a two-liter of ginger ale away. “It’s so weird that you don’t like ginger ale," she mentioned, a moment later.

Percy rolled his eyes, handing her a jar of jelly to add to the fridge. “Most people don’t like it as an everyday drink. It’s something you drink to settle your stomach."

"But… you don’t like the taste of it?" she questioned, accepting the carton of orange juice he was giving to her. “At all?"

"It tastes bland," he told her with a shrug. “I’m more of a fan of ice cream."

His response made her smile; despite the short amount of time she’d known Percy, she knew this response was incredibly  _him_. “I’m never going shopping with you again," Annabeth informed him, storing three tubs of ice cream in the freezer. “I’ve just bought so many unnecessary items that I’ll never eat."

"It was all part of a ploy for you to invite me over again," Percy said, sighing forlornly. “I hopelessly hope for the goddess that is Annabeth Chase to ask me if I would like some strawberry ice cream."

Forcing herself not to blush, or be charmed by the way he could say such a poetic sentence ending in “strawberry ice cream", she smiled. “Percy Jackson, would you like some strawberry ice cream?"

"Of course!" he shouted in delight. “How did you know?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, their conversation diminishing from purposeful to discursive as they finished putting away the groceries. Annabeth’s hunt for a job hadn’t gone spectacular, which goes to say that not many places were hiring twenty-three year olds who were overqualified for every job  _besides_  their previous job. Percy had made it his personal goal to help her get employed. Under other circumstances, she would have been embarrassed, but this was  _Percy_.

It seemed as though, even if she wanted him to go away, he wouldn’t. He reminded her of a puppy; eyes that could pretty much get anyone to say yes to him and a easygoing loyalty about him. And, she got the notion that he would be a cuddler— _don’t_ ask why—just like infantile puppies.

As Annabeth put the last item in a cabinet, Percy took it upon himself to twirl one of her curls around his finger with a certain fascination before asking where to find the bowls. She wanted to ask him  _how in god’s name he managed to show affection so easily_ , but instead she gestured to the cupboard closest to the fridge, her moment of awe dissipating. “There’s blue one’s, too."

Percy grinned at her over his shoulder. “Look at us! You know my favorite color. We’re practically best friends." He set about making two bowls of ice cream, and Annabeth could have told him she could handle it herself, but she wasn’t in the mood. All day long, Annabeth had been going from place to place, either getting a fake smile and a “we’ll call you!" or an apologetic smile and a “we’re afraid we can’t hire you." She had suffered enough embarrassment—in front of  _him_ —to last her a lifetime. “All right, Miss Annabeth Chase," Percy proclaimed, placing a blue bowl with light rose colored ice cream in her hands, “where to?"

"I want to watch the news, so the living room," she answered, sliding a drawer open to extract two spoons and walking straight to the couch. The news channel was flicked on a moment later, and Annabeth had barely heard about how the weather would be the next day when Percy cleared his throat.

"This is boring," he announced, not unkindly, waving his spoon towards the remote. “You should change it, Miss Annabeth Chase."

"What happens when I get married?" she questioned, holding the remote in her free hand. “Am I still going to be  _Miss_  Annabeth Chase?"

Percy laughed to himself, as though sharing an inside joke with himself, and ate another spoonful of strawberry ice cream. “No. You’ll be  _Mrs._  Annabeth Jackson."

She almost nodded in agreement until his last word registered. “Jackson?"

"It’s already been decided by fate, Miss Annabeth Chase. We’re getting married." Percy gave her a simple, content smile, soon after turning his attention back to his dessert.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, unsure if she should run, since Percy was extremely delusional in thinking they would get married, or smile fondly at the odd man she met in traffic. She decided on neither. “What makes you say that?"

"You’re my soulmate," Percy said easily, shrugging as if it were an axiomatic truth.

Annabeth’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “Oh?"

"Yeah," Percy corroborated. “I dreamt of a snake choking me. Sure sign."

"How in the world does that symbolize soul mates?" she questioned. “Seems a bit… morbid. Isn’t the whole ‘soul mates’ thing supposed to be a lot happier?"

Percy was quiet for a moment, swirling the remaining, melted ice cream around with his spoon. “Depends on the ending. My mom’s soul mate, my dad, he’s gone."

Annabeth felt her stomach drop in guilt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"No!" Percy interjected, smiling. “No, he’s not dead. Lost at sea. I imagine he’s still sailing; probably thinking of my mom all the time." Despite his optimism, Annabeth could read disappointment in his eyes.

"Sap," she teased, not wishing to pry information from Percy that he didn’t wish to give.

Percy shrugged. “Soul mates tend to think of each other. Their story would be an amazing book."

"Write it," Annabeth encouraged.

Percy, almost unconsciously, tapped his notebook through his jeans. “I could never write something that personal; capture something like that. Their story was evanescent, passing, and I think it only exists in their memories and the stories they tell. I don’t think it should exist in any other way."

Annabeth was quiet for a moment. “Well, at least my soul mate respects privacy," she finally said, after what had to have been a full, noiseless minute.

Percy smiled at her, standing up. “I better get going. Work in an hour."

Annabeth copied his actions, stretching out her arms. “All right," she answered. “Thanks for putting up with me all day. Or, rather, you should thank me for putting up with  _you_."

He laughed, gathering her into a quick, unexpected hug. It was probably the first hug she’d had in at least a year, and it was enough to make her smile slightly. “Thank you, Miss Annabeth Chase, for having me along."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, pulling back. “See you later."

"Will you?" he asked, walking backwards to the door. “Am I going to be graced with the presence of Annabeth Chase once more?"

She rolled her eyes, moving past him to hold open the door. “Bye, Percy."

He smiled down at her, stepping over the threshold, but turning back to her. “Don’t forget about your soul mate," Percy enjoined. His palms were itching, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the fact that he sort of wanted to hug Annabeth again, or because good luck was on the way. Itchy palms meant good fortune, usually with money, but Percy hoped maybe it would be Annabeth-related. With a parting smile, he turned on his heel and shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way down the driveway, getting in his car and driving home to prepare himself for work.

If he’s being honest, he never really saw himself working as a pizza delivery boy. Sure, he loved pizza, and sure, he liked driving, but it seemed like more of a job for high school or college students just needing the extra funds. He was twenty-three, supposed to be settling down with a wife, maybe a kid or two, having a steady, well-paying job.

Work was slow. Two other drivers were on the clock that night, for whatever reason, and Percy let them take most of the deliveries. They were younger than him, probably hoping to gather enough tips to go out with their friends the weekend. Percy would probably be home alone in his apartment watching “How I Met Your Mother" non-stop, drinking a cup of coffee and having a panic attack every time he knocked the salt over. (Which was quite often, really, thanks to his clumsy nature; but he always made sure to toss some over his left shoulder.)

Percy was superstitious. He believed in fate. However, as he walked up to his apartment with the moon projecting a silvery light across his door, he couldn’t help but wonder why fate had taken so long. And why Annabeth? Why in traffic? Why when he was twenty-three, wondering if he’d be ninety without a soul mate? Why—?

Percy sucked in a huge breath as a blur of black fur darted past him, jumping up lithely on the railing after the metal staircase. He stared at the black cat, wide-eyed, and it returned his gaze with a blank, simple look. With a groan, he took a turned what he hoped to be counter-clockwise five times, hoping to counter the bad luck in time. The ebony feline seemed wise, knowing what he was attempting, and it jumped agilely, jumping down the stairs one by one. He rushed to his door, with a renewed sense of ‘ _hurry the fuck up, Percy’_ , and jammed the key inside the lock, shoving his door open and leaned against the cold wood.

The black cat could mean one of two things: an omen of death, or bad luck.

Percy hoped it was bad luck. He would accept a lifetime of bad luck to prevent death. He prayed that the old ‘turn counter-clockwise” trick had worked, but fate and superstition were both fragile and contingent. It could be twisted and altered depending on every little circumstance.

He groaned lightly to himself, backing away from the door and falling directly on the couch.

Except, he didn’t. In all the years Percy had lived in his home, he’d never rearranged it. The couch was precisely twelve paces from the front door—he’d counted. And yet, here he lay, face down on the floor, having missed the couch but probably a whole foot.

He dropped his face to the floor. Welcome to bad luck.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's a bit superstitious and Annabeth's a little too busy trying to stay busy. Fate's not always cruel.

"Hi, Ms. Chase, this is Claire from Elkien Corporation. I regret to inform you that we’ve chosen another candidate for the position of secretary. We wish you good luck at your next interview, and a good day."

It was the third rejection call she had gotten that Thursday.  _The position has been filled, sorry_  were more or less the only words she’d heard all day.

Well, until Percy called. That’s when things got interesting.

"Hello?"

"Annabeth,  _help_! I’ve had around thirty near death experiences today and I keep finding gum on the bottom of my shoe and I burnt my hand this morning and I rolled off the bed and—"

"Percy!" Annabeth interjected, rubbing her forehead as she closed the newspaper she’d been scanning for job openings. “What are you going on about?"

"Last night," he said, lowering his voice, “I walked past a black cat. In the moonlight."

She had to restrain from dropping her head to the table, in the same manner she’d seen Percy letting his face fall onto the steering wheel in traffic. “It’s just an old superstition, don’t worry about—"

"It’s not a superstition!" Percy denied, his voice jumping an octave. “Annabeth. I just slipped.  _On carpet._ ”

"You’re clumsy," she countered. “It’s not really bad luck, you’re just thinking it is."

"But I was doing fine before this! On Monday, when we were together, I was perfectly fine! Lucky, even. And now, after seeing the cat that night, I’ve been fighting for my life!" Percy explained, and Annabeth imagined him gesturing wildly, attracting the attention of everyone within a, oh, fifty mile radius.

"Percy, calm down," Annabeth mitigated. “Where are you?"

"At work," Percy mumbled miserably. “Well, outside of work. They made me leave for today." He kicked a small, random rock off of the sidewalk and into the road. Sighing, he turned on his heel to pace back the other way.

Percy simply closed his eyes and sighed when a business woman ran right into him, causing him to drop the drink his boss had given him in pity. The woman rushed to apologize and just his  _luck_ , the drink had spilled all over his incidentally white shirt. “No, it’s fine," Percy assured her, picking up the crushed styrofoam. She rushed off, and Percy pinned the phone against his ear with his shoulder, whining a “my life _sucks_."

"What happened?" Annabeth questioned curiously, twirling a loose strand of hair that had managed to slip out of her ponytail. Her eyes widened as she realized how _disgustingly twelve-year-old_  the gesture was, and she dropped her hand to the counter she was leaning over instead.

"A woman ran into me. Made me spill my drink. All over my white shirt. None of it got on her. Annabeth Chase, look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t some horrible curse from the black cat." She heard a loud beep, definitely a car horn, and a plethora of colorful curse words from Percy. “Why the  _fuck_  did you swerve onto the sidewalk, you—"

"Percy," Annabeth interrupted in a calm tone, “don’t move. You’re going to die that way."

"You believe me?" Percy asked incredulously.

"Not at all," she replied with a snort. “But I’d rather you  _didn’t_  get yourself killed."

"Black cats  _are_  and omen of death," he pointed out.

"Just go somewhere you won’t die. Stay close to a building, and don’t go near the road," Annabeth suggested firmly. “I’ll come pick your cursed self up."

"Hurry. I could die any minute."

Annabeth rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but she admittedly walked to the door a little faster than she normally would have. She snatched her keys off the table next to the door, swinging the door open and maybe even rushing to her car.

* * *

When she found Percy, sitting against the wall of the pizza place, he had something questionable in his hair, gum on the bottom of his left Converse, and a huge stain on his shirt. He was fidgeting with his phone, either texting or playing a game, and Annabeth watched as the phone slid from his hand, hitting the ground in front of him.

She expected Percy to curse, or get furious, but he looked close to tears as he noticed his phone brandished a few new cracks and scratches. “Hi," Annabeth said cautiously, viewing Percy as a time bomb that could either start sobbing or punching her within a moment. “You okay?"

He looked up at her with pitiful green eyes, showing her his phone. The screen was more or less shattered, which couldn’t be cheap to replace. “No."

"Do you think you can get into my car without breaking something?" she asked, cracking a smile. So maybe, just a little, Percy looking like a little kid with some sort of twig in his hair and a damaged iPhone was cute. He sighed forlornly, standing up and looking around in a frightened manner.

"I honestly feel like a bull is going to charge at me in the middle of a street in Los Angeles." He risked a step, and Annabeth latched onto his upper arm, dragging him to her charcoal car. Percy shuffled into the seat, closing the door a surprising speed, and she went around to the drivers’ side.

"Don’t touch anything," Annabeth enjoined, pulling back onto the road from her previous state of being parallel parked, she spared Percy a few careful glances as he tried to remain still, fidgeting with his hands.

"Annabeth!" Percy shouted, startling her as she reflexively slammed on the brakes.

The good news: she didn’t ram the mini-van in front of her.

The bad news: Percy’s face slammed into the dashboard.

Annabeth snorted in laughter, which was probably cruel, but the man hadn’t even thought to put a seatbelt on? He used his palms to righten himself, rubbing his face and complaining about how much misfortune he’d had. It made her laugh harder—at the outrageousness of the situation and the sour expression Percy wore. “Stop laughing at me!"

"I’m sorry," Annabeth managed, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes from laughter. “I just—it’s just—really funny."

"You try hitting the dashboard and tell me if it’s funny," Percy replied sarcastically, running his hand through his hair, finally finding the lone twig and snapping it in half out of boredom.

"You still don’t have your seatbelt on." He scowled at her, pulling the strap over his shoulder and buckling up. “And you still have more twigs in your hair. Did a bird literally try to make a nest?"

"I don’t want to talk about it," Percy answered, shuddering.

Annabeth grinned, her breathing stuttering with the effort of not laughing as she took a right turn. Percy reached into his pocket suddenly, and Annabeth waited for her next fortune, something she had grown used to while hanging out with Percy.

”’ _You’ll have better luck than those you surround yourself with_ ,’" Percy read with a groan. “I am cursed!"

"My lucky numbers?" Annabeth asked, a bit of teasing in her voice.

Percy glared at her sharply, an action she could only see out of her peripherals, causing it to lose the venomous effect. “36, 7, 88, 6 and 3."

"Three is my favorite number," she shared thoughtfully. “Maybe the superstitious stuff is for real, Percy Jackson."

"You’re mocking me," he said, sounding dangerously close to a petulant five year-old as she pulled into her driveway.

"Sorry," Annabeth said belatedly. “Did you want to go home?"

"I’d probably end up dying," Percy admitted. “At least you can try to keep me from death."

"How long do these things usually last?" she inquired, cutting the engine. “Like, a day? A week?"

"A day at least. But it could last for a week," he shared, dropping his face into his hands. “This is  _horrible_."

"I think you just need to lay down and stay in one place," Annabeth decided, opening her car door and swinging her keys around her index finger as she opened the door for Percy.

He shook his head morosely. “I tried that. My couch broke."

"How does a couch break?"

"It literally cracked down the middle. You tell me."

She repeated the process of holding Percy’s upper arm, and this time his arms were tense and flexed—expecting a disaster, rather than accepting defeat. She mentally approved of his arms, since arms had always been more of her thing as opposed to abdominal, and pulled Percy up to her doorstep.

He tripped over his shoelaces once and nearly took Annabeth down with him, but they managed to get through the threshold and into her home without too much trouble. He groaned, hitting his head against the nearest wall. A picture frame fell down immediately after, and Percy felt like crying.

Annabeth only laughed though, holding Percy’s forearms behind her back as she led him into the living room. She sat him on the couch, ordered him to tie his shoe, and left to find him an old t-shirt of her dad’s that he might be able to fit into.

She returned with an old blue shirt from some science convention, tossing it at Percy and honestly  _not_ expecting it when he stood up, removing his ruined white shirt immediately. He sanded his bare chest off, and Annabeth swallowed. “I cannot tell you," Percy started, pulling the new shirt over his head, “how uncomfortable it is wearing a soda soaked shirt."

Annabeth nodded, worried that she’d say something close to “hnnnng" if she spoke at all.

"I’m taking my shoes off," he informed her, untying his Converse.

"Right," she replied, finding her voice. “Are you… hungry or something?"

"A three course meal sounds perfect, thanks," Percy answered with a charismatic smile. Annabeth raised a blonde eyebrow, leaning against the couch. “I’ll settle for a sandwich."

She picked up a couch pillow, chucking it at his face. “You are so rude! I just saved you from death, maybe!" Percy laughed, throwing the pillow back at her. It hit her shoulder, and she stared at it blankly. “Did you really just—?"

"I did," Percy said, cutting her off.

"I want to suffocate you with it," Annabeth decided, “but I’m sure you’ve had enough bad luck for the day."

Percy grinned, shaking his head. “I’m glad you’re my soul mate, by the way. You’re a fun person."

In all of her twenty-three years on planet Earth, Annabeth had never been called a ‘fun person.’ Uptight? Absolutely. Prude? Millions of times. But  _fun_? Not once.

"Thank you?" she answered, her tone questioning.

"It’s a good thing." Percy straightened his shoes so that they weren’t askew in her living room. “I was wondering when I’d finally meet my soul mate. I’ve been waiting for like, what, sixteen years? Pretty much ever since I became superstitious. I mean, people have always said that good things come to people that wait, but—"

Percy stopped abruptly, his eyes widening as he patted his pocket frantically, pulling out an orange notebook and resting it against his knee, now bouncing restlessly. “Uh, Annabeth, I need a—"

Knowing better than to interrupt one of Percy’s moments of inspiration, she hurried to the kitchen and brought him back a pen. He barely mumbled a ‘thanks’ before taking the cap captive between his teeth as he started writing in a frantic manner.

_Waiting is often viewed as an annoyance, especially to the impatient. But waiting for something that’s worth it; something that will change your life forever… Why wouldn’t you? For all you know, your world could burst into color with a single brushing of fingertips. You could find a new will to live. You may find the one thing that keeps you sane, that evens you out and leaves you as a better person._

Percy paused, his hand hesitating over the page. He quickly pulled the pen away, the thought occurring to him that an ink spill was probable. “Here," he mumbled around the pen cap, handing the liability to Annabeth. He pulled the cap out of his mouth, handing it over as well.

"What was it about this time?" she asked curiously, replacing the cap on the pen.

"Just another rambling, really," Percy replied, feeling a bit shy of his work. He wanted to get published one day, of course, but he hated when people read his unedited words, seeing as most of it never even found its way into a proper story. “They’re all ramblings."

Annabeth’s brow furrowed as she sat down on the couch. “You mean you haven’t actually… started a book?"

"I was waiting for the right bout of inspiration," he half-lied. Truth was, he went through a period of time where he considered the fact that maybe writing wasn’t his calling. After scribbling in notebooks since he was fifteen, leaving them to pile up in the shoebox in his closet, maybe he was meant to do something else.

"And have you found it yet?"

Percy knew what he was about to do was Lifetime movie-esque, but he met Annabeth’s eyes and nodded. “Maybe. I think so."

Every time he ran into Annabeth, the first thing he would notice was her eyes. Grey, silver, undefinable, luminescent; it was all depending on which lighting or angle you caught them in. Her looking down at her jeans, picking at them to busy herself, was his favorite angle so far.

He wanted to say something along the lines of, " _you’re really pretty and I think we should kiss_ this instant _”_ ; however, he lost his nerve immediately when she met his eyes again.

"Hi," Percy said simply.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Hi."

"So…"

"So, I’m going to go make lunch. Don’t break anything else." She flitted out of the room an instant later, and Percy thought maybe he was lucky, despite the curse.

Soul mates didn’t always have to be romantic; it just had to be someone who understands you through and through, and accepts you that way. Maybe he and Annabeth would be best friends.

Percy rubbed his forehead, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. Everyone of his best female friends had became something more, temporarily. But then again, none of the relationships had felt steady or permanent. If anything, they were flings, the occasional make-out session when one or the other was bored. There had never been classic romance, like flowers and kisses on the cheek and handholding.

"Coke or Sprite?" Annabeth called from her kitchen. Percy leaned over the back of the couch, about to call back his answer and—

The couch tipped over.

"God _dammit_!" he shouted, having barely caught himself from breaking his nose on the floor.

Annabeth peered into the living room, snorting at Percy’s position. “This is too great. I should just film you for the next week."

He glared at her, rolling off the capsized couch and setting it upright. “That thing weighs a ton, Annabeth Chase! How did I make it fall over?" Annabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Percy scowled. “Stop laughing at me!"

"I’m sorry! I just wish you could see yourself, all petulant and cute and hysterical and delusional," she said, grinning. “Sit on the floor. Hopefully you won’t fall through."

"Wait," Percy yelled after her, “what did you call me?"

"An idiot!" Annabeth shouted back. She reentered the room with two paper plates stacked on each other, three cans of soda tucked close to her body by her arm.

Percy moved to help her, but Annabeth caught him with a steely gaze that clearly said, " _sit down because you will break something, you idiot."_

She placed the plates unceremoniously on the ground, handing both a Sprite and a Coke to Percy, since he’d never told her what he wanted. With a sigh, Percy snatched up the Coke, pulling the metal tab up and, well, Annabeth should have considered it earlier.

Percy slammed the beverage, which had recently exploded, down on the wood floor, soda dripping off of his hands. “Are you  _joking_?" he asked, looking skyward. “Why did I do to deserve this?" Annabeth laughed at him, again, and Percy tried to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he ultimately got Coke all over his face, forgetting it was covering his hands. “Great. This is great."

She bit back her smile, opening her Sprite with ease and taking a sip out of it. He glared at her, sighing in annoyance and deciding to eat his sandwich. Luckily, he finished it without choking or having it magically blow up (because really  _who_  even knew anymore?), and Annabeth left the room to get him a wet rag to clean his hands and face.

"Maybe you are cursed," she decided, sitting across from him. He reached out to take the rag from her, but she laughed. “I’m sure you’d manage choke yourself somehow, with the curse and whatnot," Annabeth said simply, taking one of his hands and wiping it off for him. “Why are black cats ‘bad luck’?"

"They’re associated with witches. Witches were typically lonely elderly women, and they took care of the alleycats. So, people started believing that they had some sort of demonic aspect," Percy answered, his voice a bit monotone due to his intense concentration at the moment. He could count her eyelashes if he wanted to; he could see every sunkissed freckle on her deeply tanned skin, usually concealing them. It was distracting.

Annabeth finished cleaning his other hand, moving closer to wipe the Coke off of his face. “When did you become superstitious?"

Percy smiled, finally settling into her proximity. “Well, it was it second grade."

"That early?"

“‘Step on a crack, break your mom’s back,’" he recited. “I love my mom far too much to cause a broken back. After that I pestered my mom about other superstitions. At first, I just thought it was kind of cool. But then I started running away when I saw a ladder or crying when I broke a mirror and… it all got a bit out of hand."

"And now you’re you," Annabeth finished.

Percy nodded after she back away from him, cleaning up the mess on the floor. “Yeah… I’m sorry about all the Coke."

She only laughed. “Trust me, this is the most excitement I’ve had in years."

"Must have a boring life," Percy teased.

Annabeth shrugged. “Pretty much. It’s been crazy since I met you."

"Soul mates usually change your life," he informed her, “so I’m not shocked."

"You really believe we’re soul mates?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. “Why?"

Percy shrugged nondescriptly. “Just a feeling. It’s different, with you. Plus, one can only hope for such an amazing soul mate."

Annabeth stood up and wandered off into the house, probably to toss the rag in a laundry hamper, but mostly so that she could avoid an answer to Percy’s words. He watched the curls in her ponytail shake as she walked off.

After she discarded the fabric into a hamper, she glanced in her mirror.

Dear god.

She was  _glowing_.

She hadn’t liked anyone for seven years, and suddenly this  _stupid_ ,  _charming_ , _superstitious_  Percy Jackson comes into her life. “I don’t like him," Annabeth assured herself. “I won’t. I’m twenty-three, and I will not develop a crush on Percy Jackson. I hardly know him."

The sharp sound of a phone ringtone going off broke her out of her reverie, and she sent herself a warning glare before hurrying back into the living room. She’d originally thought it was her phone, but upon entry, she noticed Percy holding his phone up to his ear, apparently still working despite the shattered screen.

"Yeah," he answered cautiously. “Yep. Um… yes?" He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his forehead. “Of course. No, it’s fine. Just—yeah. I’ll figure it out. Thank you." Percy promptly dropped his phone, hearing it crack more, but honestly not finding it in himself to care. “My apartment was on fire," he announced, laying on his stomach and burying his face into his elbows. “It was a stove fire, they think. I don’t even use the stove, Annabeth Chase."

Since this bout of bad luck was a bit more serious, Annabeth decided not to tease him. Instead, she sat criss-cross next to him on the floor, patting his back, unsure of how to comfort him. “What’d they say?"

"I’ll be out of there for a least a week," he shared. “Since I wasn’t in there, it took them a lot longer to find the fire. And apparently they need to ventilate it and do some other things that I didn’t really hear because  _my apartment was on fire._  They also need to make sure it’s not arson. And I have to get it repaired."

Annabeth sighed in sympathy, rubbing his back in a hopefully soothing manner. “I’m sorry."

"My life sucks," Percy groaned pathetically. “He said they saved my shoebox, though. Apparently, he’d been going to see me when he saw the firetrucks and stuff." He rubbed his face in an exhausted manner. “My life _sucks_ ," he reiterated.

"Well…" she started, not really sure if she was willing to offer, “do you need a place to stay?"

Percy turned and grinned suggestively at her. “I wish I did. But my cousin Nico was the one who called me, and he already offered."

"That’s good!" she answered, a weight lifting off her shoulders. She could hardly handle being around him for a few hours, much less a whole week. “At least you won’t be sleeping on the streets."

"It’s going to take so much money to fix the damage. I work at a pizza place. Why is this happening to me?" Annabeth decided that she felt a bit uncomfortable, continuing to comfort Percy by rubbing his back, but when she removed her hand, he indignantly said, “I didn’t want you to stop!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, ruffling his hair and standing up. “Come on," she ordered. “Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to help."

Percy scowled up at her. “I’ll do what I want."

"Not in my house. Get up."

He kept his irritated expression as he stood up, looking at Annabeth expectantly. “What now?"

"I’ll take you to Nico’s," she suggested. “We’ll tell him about your curse. I’ll leave."

Percy didn’t seem too entirely fond of the idea, but he nodded. “Alright. Let’s go."

The drive to Nico’s was mostly full of  _that way_ ’s and  _turn here_ ’s. As for conversation, Percy mostly talked to himself about how he was going to talk to his mom and explain everything to her, be  _that son_  and score money off of her. Annabeth, having never been in the position of her apartment being in a deteriorated state, simply nodded along and agreed as needed.

When they finally arrived at Nico’s apartment building, Percy stepped out of the car, promptly tripping on his shoelace and ending up in the wide expanse of grass. Instead of standing, he closed his eyes like he’d meant to do it all along. “It feels nice out here, Annabeth Chase," he stated. “Maybe I should live on the streets."

"And get attacked by rabid people and animals? Doesn’t sound like a swell idea."

Percy sat up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow and looking her up and down a few times. “You think too much," he decided, falling flat on his back and staring up at the sky. “Do you ever just sit down and enjoy life?"

"No," Annabeth answered, managing to keep her eyes on the clouds. “If I sat down and started thinking about life, all I would see is how much is wrong with it."

Quiet for a while, Percy rolled onto his stomach and started picking at the grass. “I wouldn’t let you."

"What do you mean?" she questioned, leaning against her car.

"Soul mates don’t let other soul mates think negatively about beautiful things," he declared. “And life is beautiful, if you really think about it."

"You writers," Annabeth replied with a smile, “always so philosophical."

"You business people," he countered, “always so busy being busy."

Neither confirming nor denying the statement, she carefully sat down in the grass next to Percy. It was almost an exact remake of them laying on the floor in her home, but now it was out in the open air, with butterflies flitting around and grass beneath them. “Some of us need to be busy to stay sane."

"But being busy is what makes you insane, too." He rolled over on his back again as Annabeth rested her weight against her palms. “You should appreciate times like these, when you aren’t rushing around, doing something. Just take a few minutes to breathe, and you wouldn’t see how horrible life is. You’d realize how much better it is when you just  _slow down_."

Annabeth attempted to listen to Percy’s therapy, but it just wasn’t  _her_. “You should be writing this down. It’s good material."

Percy looked over to her, reaching up and pulling on a curl. “I wrote it about three months ago. I’m just relaying it to you. Looks like my ramblings actually have some purpose."

"What are they even about?" she asked, finally lying on her back. Percy smiled triumphantly, though she didn’t see it.

He kept his eyes on her face as he answered. “Everything I find fitting to write about."

"Which is?"

His eyes flickered across her face, and he thought maybe he’d write more about her one day. “Traffic," Percy listed with a grin. She smiled lightly. “Music. Books; how they feel, how they change, how they look. Life. Good things, bad things, things that fall into neither category. There’s no set list for what I write about, it just happens when it does. It’s easier to take life that way."

"Take life how?" Turning to face Percy, she let herself appreciate how easy it was just to  _be_. To not feel like there was a million responsibilities. For the moment, she let herself think that maybe Percy was onto something.

He smiled softly at the sky, closing his eyes. He felt like a teenager again, lying in the grass, staring at the sun with a pretty girl. “Taking life as it comes. Stop planning." He gave Annabeth a look, and she scowled.

"But if I didn’t plan—"

"You would take a chance," Percy finished. “Meet someone like me." Leaning up on his elbows, he focused his attention on her. “Become an architect. Become famous." His eyes scanned the surrounding trees. “Fall in love." Yanking at blades of grass, he turned back to her. “Chance is a beautiful thing, you know."

"I didn’t," Annabeth admitted. “I think I’m starting to."

Sitting up next to him, she wrapped her arms around her knees. Percy mimicked her actions, sharing a private smile with himself. “That’s good then."

She nodded, watching his face carefully. She couldn’t help but wonder which planet he’d come from. Percy was so  _different_  when she compared him to every other guy she’d met. Rather than be a pro football player, meet a lot of babes, and be famous, Percy simply wanted to write something that would make a change. He wanted to do things for the better, not for himself. It was an admirable quality.

Just like on the first day in traffic, Percy caught her calculating stare and smiled at her dopily. “Hey."

"Hi," Annabeth answered, cocking her head to the side. His ADHD let him quickly assess the situation; if he moved about an inch over, they’d be touching. The ghost-like heat of her shoulder was almost suffocating, since it wasn’t close enough. Every time he’d managed to have skin-on-skin contact with Annabeth, it was indescribable. It was addicting. And Percy didn’t even have an addictive personality. As he finally opened his mouth to speak, she bluntly said, “Tie your shoe." She glanced away immediately after, keeping her gaze locked on her car.

"Okay," he answered. His tone was questioning, and Annabeth blamed herself. “Um, right." He set about tying his shoe, and Annabeth jumped up.

"Right. Well, I need to go." Her abrupt need to leave made Percy raise an eyebrow and laugh disbelievingly.

"You won’t even walk me to the door, Annabeth Chase? What ever would my father say?" He shot her a smile, sure that she’d cave.

"Sorry," Annabeth said quickly. “I just. I’m in a hurry. I remembered a few errands I have to run." Percy eyes skipped around her face, curious and puzzled.

"Okay?" He still looked confused, which wasn’t  _unusual_ , really, but Annabeth knew she was the queen of mixed signals when her heart and her head started saying two different things. “Bye?"

"Yeah, bye," Annabeth replied distractedly. She started listing random facts to herself in her head, combating the rising thoughts of how devastatingly emerald Percy’s eyes were. He stretched, and she turned away abruptly. “See you!"

"No hug?"

Annabeth stopped midstep, closing her eyes tight before taking a deep breath and turning. She took the few steps over to him, giving a chaste hug and pulling away before he even had the chance to return it.

She stepped into her car and left the apartment complex. Hopefully, Percy would be able to explain his ‘cursed’ situation to Nico by himself.

* * *

"And now you have bad luck," Nico deadpanned, lying across the couch with an interesting expression on his face. “Because of… a black cat?"

"Yes," Percy affirmed.

"Right," the younger boy said sarcastically. “And I have a pink shirt in my closet."

Nico Di Angelo was three years younger than Percy, just turning twenty and still in college. If Percy was forced to describe him in one word, it’d be broody. He often expressed his intense hatred for the human race; black and grey were the only colors found in his closet. He hadn’t gone as far as wearing eyeliner just yet, but Percy figured he was one step below that.

With a sigh, he cast his eyes around his cousin’s apartment, wondering if he’d be taking the couch for the next week.

Percy’s eyes stuttered over a shirt thrown in the corner, dark blue with a low, v-shaped neckline. He raised an amused eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s not yours?"

Nico glanced where Percy had gestured, clearing his throat and abruptly stating, “Have you ate?"

"Yeah," he answered, laughing. “Did my baby cousin score?"

"Ordering pizza!" Nico yelled over him, rushing into the kitchen. Percy smiled after him, taking out his phone. He could barely see the screen, but he’d had the phone long enough to know how to navigate it. Through the hairline cracks, he could tell that he had a message.

Squinting as he struggled to make out what was on the screen through the brokenness and his dyslexia, Percy could read four words.

_More job hunting tomorrow?_

* * *

_I woudl be honorerd_

Annabeth figured it was the best he could do with a broken phone. She was already regretting it a little, but the whole way home, one of Percy’s stupid fortunes echoed in her ears, hijacking every one of her thoughts.

_"The time has come to stop listening to what your mind says."_

She alternated between typing out a message and erasing it. Then finally, when her thumb was hovering over the send button, she closed her eyes and tapped the screen, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What’s done is done," she assured herself, dropping her phone on the counter (carefully, of course; she didn’t want it to end up looking like Percy’s).

Annabeth spent the rest of her night relaxing and definitely  _not_  stressing out over what she should wear.

* * *

"Don’t be awkward," Percy ordered himself, waving to Nico as he backed out of Annabeth’s driveway. “Don’t be weird." With a nod to himself, he knocked on her door, rushing to grab a fortune out of his pocket for her.

As she opened the door, he read, "’ _Let things go and better things will come.’_ " He didn’t exactly like the sound of that one, and he blamed his bad luck for giving her a fortune that more or less urged her to forget him. “Your lucky numbers are 3, 32, 47, 4, and 66."

"Do you ever run out of fortunes?" Annabeth asked without missing a beat.

Percy smirked. “I eat a lot of Chinese food. Plus, I’ve been collecting these things for years."

"I don’t like the one I got today," she admitted.

Percy shied away from meeting her eyes. “Me either."

"Are you going to make me breakfast or stand on my doorstep all day?" Annabeth asked, her typical take-no-shit expression on her face.

"If I remember correctly," Percy started, moving up another step so that he was directly in front of her, “just a few days ago you weren’t even sure you wanted to let me inside your house."

She didn’t even blink at his proximity. “That was before I knew how harmless you were."

Percy smiled at the banter, leaning in the doorframe. “You haven’t seen me when I’m hungry."

"Frightening?"

"Livid. Sometimes I feel tempted to become a cannibal." Annabeth shook her head, stepping aside and kicking her door open. He nodded gratefully, opting for a clumsy wave rather than a hug. “I’m just going to… go to the kitchen."

She gave him an odd look. “Okay?"

"Right."  _Don’t be weird. Don’t be weird. Don’t be—_ "You look… nice."

Annabeth appraised her hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. “Thanks? I’m just in a jacket." She laughed in a way that kept Percy from feeling stupid, thank god, and walked past him into the kitchen. “I was hoping you were hungry? I wasn’t sure if you got my text about not eating."

"I am," he assured her. “Hungry, that is." Percy shuffled his feet, taking a deep breath and tapping out a random beat on her kitchen counter. “Okay. So. Breakfast?"

"Yep," Annabeth answered, making Percy jump at the closeness of her voice. She gave him an amused gaze as she leaned past him to wash her hands. “You’re a little jumpy. Are you okay?"

"Me? I’m fine," he answered, his nervous laughter painfully obvious.  _Just really scared of acting weird and screwing this up._

"Look," she said with a sigh, patting her hands on a dish towel. “I’m sorry about yesterday."

Percy let out a huge sigh of relief. “Okay. Me too."

"It really bothered you that I was acting like it didn’t happen, wasn’t it?"

He shrugged, trying to pretend that he wasn’t freaking out in the minutes prior. “I’m just bad at ignoring things, I guess. I’m so sorry for being weird about it. I just—breakfast. We should make breakfast."

Annabeth nodded in agreement, tapping on her iPhone several times until music started playing. She hooked it up to her iHome and Percy nodded along to the addition of music. “Eggs are in the fridge," she told him, already pulling out a frying pan.

Cooking breakfast with Percy was definitely something special. He was too clumsy to be confined into a kitchen (unless he was eating, of course), and he knocked things over almost constantly. His streak of bad luck wasn’t helping any. Percy bragged to Annabeth for ten minutes about how amazing he was at making pancakes, and she let him take over the stove when the time came.

Truth was, he seemed pretty skilled at flipping the pancakes, but no matter how long he left them on the pan, from three seconds to three minutes, they burned. It only made Annabeth laugh, something he could barely hear over the music she’d turned on, and she simply pushed him out of the way with her hip and took over the job. He would have been upset about it, but the her action was ridiculously cute in a way that made him feel like his heart was going to fall out of his chest.

Annabeth turned the knob from ‘seven’ to ‘off’ and removed the pan from the burner before placing two plates in Percy’s hands. “Try not to drop them," she suggested. He gave her a sarcastic look, walking the pancakes to the table—which was a total of three steps away—and managed to set them down without the table spontaneously breaking.

She placed two cups of coffee in front of both plates, followed by a carton of half-and-half and a bowl of sugar. “Well, that was fun," Percy noted, drizzling too much syrup over his pancakes. “Sorry I suck at cooking."

"I’m sure it’s just the cur—"

Percy’s handle snapped off of his coffee cup as he tried to pick it up. Groaning in annoyance, he picked the coffee up with his bare hand, and Annabeth attempted to suppress a smile as she took a bite of her eggs. “You’re laughing at me!"

"It’s hard not to," she admitted, biting her lip. “It’s so amusing. You should write a book about it."

"I think I’ll write a book about a certain Annabeth Chase who laughed at her soul mate and was never seen again." He sent her a pointed, snarky look, eating his food at a surprising speed, thankfully  _not_  choking, seeing as Annabeth didn’t know the Heimlich maneuver.

As she slowly ate her breakfast, Percy more or less talked to himself. “So, job hunting? None of the other jobs called? That’s odd. I mean, I personally would hire you in a heartbeat. You give off this vibe, like a good vibe, the kind of vibe that employers usually look for. Maybe it’s something in the water. Like that expensive water the rich people drink. Rich people are usually business owners, right? I mean, sometimes they can be poor, but the business is how they get rich, you know? It’s crazy how people’s social status can change so easily…"

He didn’t stop talking until she dropped her plate in the sink, sending him a look to let him know that  _she was done_  and  _he could stop talking now_. “So…"

"I need job," Annabeth said, scowling at the way she sounded like a caveman. “I need  _a_ job."

Percy snorted in laughter, picking up the handle that had snapped off of the coffee cup and handing it to her. “Sorry about that."

"I’ll add it to your tab," she said, waving him off. “I’m going to go change into something more appropriate for job hunting, then we can—"

"Do we  _have_  to find you a job today?" Percy questioned, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Can’t we just go for a walk on the beach, buy smoothies and milkshakes and do something fun?"

Annabeth had to bite her tongue, resisting the urge to say  _job hunting is fun_. “I need a job," she reiterated.

He heard the tone in her voice that said she would rather be anything besides job hunting, so he decided to compromise. “How about we job hunt for ten minutes, then we go to the beach?"

"Ten minutes."

"Why not?"

"That’s not even enough time to find a place hiring."

"Exactly," Percy said with a laugh. “So, it would be a lot easier if you just agreed to go to the beach with me instead of being a crabby business lady."

"I’m not crabby!"

"But you are defensive," he countered.

"I am not!" Annabeth replied. Percy gave her a blank stare, and she scowled. “Shut up." He smiled to himself, turning away and leaning against the counter, waiting for her to agree. “Why the beach?"

"I like the beach," he answered simply. “It’s nice outside."

"My mom is going to kill me," she warned, cracking her knuckles in a nervous habit. Her mother had spent over an hour warning Annabeth of the dangers of not having a job. Regardless of her savings, she still needed to have an occupation because she would end up depleting every dollar in her bank account, according to her mother.

"You are twenty-three years old, Annabeth Chase! Why does it matter what your mother thinks? You’re your own person," Percy informed her. “You should do what  _you_ want, not what your mother wants you to do."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him, but he leveled her gaze with the same open expression he always had on his face. He was right, maybe, but he didn’t know her mom; however, her mom didn’t  _have_  to know that she didn’t go out searching high and low for a job. “Come on," he urged, “just do something for yourself for once."

His words pulled at something deep in her conscious, something that she’d learned to suppress. Ever since she was younger, Annabeth had been taught to serve other people, to put them before herself, because that was the only way she’d advance in the business world. Then, once you were at the top, you were given the right to be selfish. But now, the option was lying before her, in the form of a twenty-three year old man with messy hair who still looked every bit like a high-school heartthrob.

"Fine," she decided, ultimately ignoring Percy’s blinding smile. “We’ll go to the beach."

He smiled smugly, dropping her car keys into her hand. “Lead the way, Annabeth Chase."

Being at the beach with Percy—as opposed to running into him as he strolled down the beach sans-shirt—was an interesting experience. He seemed to ingratiate himself into nearly every group on the shore. Some people recognized him, calling out greetings, making Annabeth feel both uncomfortable and proud, since it seemed like she was walking with a celebrity of sorts.

When a guy jogged over to Percy with his surfboard in tow and a Sharpie in his hand, asking politely for an autograph, Annabeth had to ask.

"Okay, what’s with the people and the autograph?" she questioned, as soon as the guy walked away. Walking up the beach a little ways, Annabeth sat down in the sand and rolled up her skinny jeans for make-shift capris. It was breezy out, as it always was on Surfrider Beach, but the sun piercing the wind just enough to keep her warm.

Percy made an odd face, his nose scrunching up in a disdainful manner, and he shrugged nonchalantly before sitting beside her. “I’m a retired member of the NSSA."

"NSSA," Annabeth repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed. “National Scholastic Surfing Association."

"And?"

Percy glanced away from her, rolling his shoulders. “I won a competition or two."

"I get the feeling you’re being modest," she said pointedly, wincing as she watched a man wipeout. He resurfaced a moment later, his expression one of pure joy, and Annabeth wondered how someone could be so happy about failure.

"I’ve been competing in them since I was little," he shared finally, picking up handfuls of sand and watching it fall through his fingers. “I learned from this guy named Gabriel. He said I was good. Signed me up for my first competition. I won."

Annabeth studied him and wondered how much more Percy Jackson was holding back. The expression on his face wasn’t reminiscent of an old career or hobby; if anything, it seemed bitter and disappointed. She didn’t want to pry, but he was simply too hard to figure out. She wanted to know him, more than she’d ever wanted to know anything. “You aren’t telling me something," Annabeth blurted impulsively.

Percy chuckled, rubbing his hands on his jeans to rid of the sand. “I’m not," he agreed. “The question is, do you really want to know?" He looked at her expectantly. “I think our whole thing where I give you fortunes and you underappreciate them is fine as it is."

"What happened to the ‘soul mates’ thing? Aren’t you supposed to tell me important things?" Annabeth challenged.

Percy’s eyes examined her face, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. If you asked any of her friends, she was the most self-confident and content person alive. Annabeth  _had_  to be, since her mother wasn’t exactly helping in the ‘encouragement’ department. But around people like Percy, who told her things she’d never heard and could see right through her, it was different.

Percy wasn’t sure how to explain it. The kind of hopeless hope he’d had for the years upon years he competed in surfing contests. He wished that she could read him as easily as he could read her. Weren’t soul mates supposed to have some telepathy thing?

She held his gaze in an almost unnerved manner, and Percy knew for a fact she wanted to look away. He didn’t know why, and he guessed it could only add to the odd mannerisms of Annabeth Chase.

"I thought maybe my dad would notice me," he found himself saying, staring at a particular golden curl that had fallen out of her ponytail. He laughed to himself, the sound deprecating in a way that contrasted the blissful weather. “I thought, maybe, if I did something important enough, he’d come back." Percy turned away and stared out at the ocean, as though he were still waiting for his father to walk right out of it. “Pretty stupid, right?"

Annabeth stayed silent, because honestly  _how can you respond to something like that?_ Luckily, she didn’t have to, since Percy kept talking. “I think I even wrote something about it, actually." His hand disappeared into his left pocket and reappeared with an orange notebook in hand. “I’m not sure if it’s in this one," he mumbled to himself, flipping back to the earliest pages he had. Annabeth, foolishly, wondered if he’d written anything about her, but she dispelled the thought immediately.

“ _‘Waiting seems pointless, but giving up seems worse. I hate you in a million ways, for leaving my mother and forgetting about her while she still waits for you, too. It makes me wonder if you’re even a good person, since good people don’t do bad things like that. It makes me wonder if I even want to meet my own father. I think that sometimes I hear you, in the back of my mind, telling me what to do, and that it’ll all be fine, but then I realize it’s an echo of a voice that I’ve made up, since I’ve never been cursed with the burden of hearing yours.’_ ”

She knew there was more; she could see it carry on to the end of the page and onto the next one, but Percy closed the book and dropped it in the sand. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time waiting on something that’s never even going to show up."

Annabeth sighed. She had never been good at comforting people, since her usual tactic was ‘don’t think about it and do some work.’ “Well… you thought maybe you would never find your soul mate, and here I am."

Percy stopped staring intently at his notebook and instead met her eyes. “Maybe," he agreed, his shoulder accidentally hitting hers. “But I never went out looking for you. That’s bad luck. You have to wait for good things like soul mates."

"Your dad might have had a reason," Annabeth suggested. “Maybe he didn’t want to leave, but he had to."

Percy licked his lips and laughed. “You sound so much like my mom sometimes."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Both," he said vaguely, standing up and offering Annabeth a hand. She repeated his actions, without the aid of his hand, but it didn’t seem like Percy even noticed. “So, I was thinking… I kind of want to show you something."

"And what’s that?" Annabeth questioned, suppressing a shiver when the back of Percy’s hand touched hers.

He shoved his hand in his pocket like she had burned him, but before she could think about it too much, he was shooting Annabeth his troublemaker smile and running off.

Annabeth was glad she jogged on a weekly basis, otherwise she probably would have lost Percy. It appeared that his years of surfing had given him some outstanding physical health. Eventually, he slowed down, waiting for her to catch up before he started talking. “You’re in good shape."

Annabeth’s cheeks were flushed slightly due to the warm day and the sudden exercise. “Thanks?"

Percy wasn’t exactly discreet about giving her a once over. “Definitely a compliment," he told her, walking closer to a foundation of rocks. “There’s this thing…"

"Wow, that is enlightening," Annabeth muttered sarcastically. Percy shot her a look, shoving his hand between two smaller rocks and pushing one aside.

"It’s more proof that we’re soul mates, maybe," he continued, tossing one large rock into the sand. “I hope it’s still here." Percy kept shuffling rocks around until he hit a flat wall, cheering to himself. He dropped one last rock that was about six of Annabeth’s fist and sanded his hands on his jeans. “It  _is_  here."

She tried to lean over his shoulder, but he was too tall, so she hip checked him to get a better view. “What is this?" Annabeth asked, running her hands over the rock. There were a million names etched into the stone, some dates here and there, but mostly names.

"Gabriel showed it to me the day I won my first competition. He’s lived on the beach since he was born, and he told me that when he was six, his grandma showed him this." Percy licked his lips, looking thoughtful. “Legend says that if you’ve signed this wall, your other half does, too. She told Gabe that his grandfather’s name was on the complete opposite side of hers, but they met exactly in the middle."

Annabeth reached back in her memories, and there was a small moment in which she remembered her father standing before the wall as she yanked at his hair. “And?"

Percy smiled. “When Gabe showed it to me, I was eight. And I remember carving my name with his pocket knife, right above another name." He ran his hand over the wall before stopping, sanding the debris off of the wall. “Right here."

She peered closer, seeing Percy’s name among a dozen others. “Okay."

He moved his hand away, staring intently at it. “I always wondered who in the world would name their kid ‘Annabe,’" Percy confessed. “But now I think maybe the person who wrote it didn’t get to finish."

Annabeth cocked her head to the side, staring at the carving of her name. “I kind of remember being here. I don’t remember signing my name." She glanced at Percy and found him staring openly at her, unguarded and so  _ready_  to have her in his life.

"Well, Anna _be_ ," he said simply, “I think it’s safe to say that you did sign it. We’re definitely soul mates. I don’t know what more proof I could give you."

She was quiet for a while, staring at their two names. They seemed segregated from the rest; among many, the only two stacked one on top of the other. It seemed that her and Percy’s relationship, if it was even called that, was based solely on happenstance. While she tried to search for a clearer memory, he leaned against the wall, displacing a rock that promptly fell on his foot, soon after flinching and scowling. “I thought the curse was gone," he whined, pouting childishly.

Annabeth smiled, resting her fingertips on their names once more before pulling away. “This is so weird," she decided. “All of these coincidences."

Percy shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “Not coincidences. Fate."

* * *

"Have you kissed her yet?" Nico shouted upon Percy’s entry. He leaned out of his bedroom door and gave him a smirk. “Is Annabeth your  _girl_ friend?"

Percy toed off his Converse, rolled his eyes at Nico, and collapsed on the couch. “No and no."

"Why haven’t you?" he asked, sounding less teasing and more curious.

The older boy shrugged. “Our relationship isn’t defined by how many times we’ve made out. Plus, we  _did_  just meet a week or two ago."

"What about the whole ‘soul mates’ thing?"

Percy blew air through his teeth. “Honestly, Nico. Soul mates don’t have to be romantic, you know."

Nico rolled his eyes. “Don’t talk to me like I’m five. It just seems like the whole ‘soul mate’ thing would work out better if you guys were romantically together."

"So young and naive," Percy said forlornly. Nico hated when he played his younger age against him. “So much to learn."

"I’m twenty!" Nico said defensively. “And I’m probably more experienced than  _you_  are."

"Judging by the random articles of female clothing I’ve seen, I honestly don’t doubt that," the green eyed man answered with a laugh.

Nico blushed fiercely, clearing his throat and saying, “What do you say we have a movie night? Or afternoon, I guess. I’m feeling horror."

"You’re always ready to watch gory horror movies," Percy informed him. “But sure, why not?"

"I’ll get the blankets and pillows?"

The older man smiled at his cousin, remembering the drill from when they were younger. They had been best friends for many years, despite the age difference, up until the point that Percy was zoned for a different high school than where Nico dwelled. “I’ll get some snacks."

"I’ll take a Dr. Pepper. Food coloring is in the cabinet next to the fridge if you need it." With that, the brown-eyed twenty year-old exited the room and traipsed down the hall. Percy raided the kitchen, pulling out every package of junk food he came across. He gathered his collection and laid it on the counter, preparing a blue cup of Sprite for himself (since Nico refused to buy classic Coke) and a glass of regular Dr. Pepper for Nico. He took the snacks to the living room and dropped them on the floor.

Despite the fact that he slipped on his way back into the kitchen to retrieve the drinks, Percy had a fairly curseless night.

It was the next day when he was reassured the curse was by no means ‘gone.’

* * *

He’d woken up at eleven in the morning, brewed a pot of coffee, and finally managed to gather the courage to wake up Nico. If anyone was  _frightening_  in the mornings, it was Nico Di Angelo. He’d snap at you, shout, throw punches; the kid liked his sleep. And if he didn’t wake up by himself, it was never a good idea to wake him up by your own hand.

Percy’s hands were admittedly a little clammy when he pushed Nico’s door open and leaned inside, but much to his surprise, his younger cousin was pulling a shirt over his head, managing to keep talking on the phone at the same time.

"Sure," he heard Nico mutter. “Yeah, man, whatever. Don’t worry about it, seriously. I’ll see you then."

He turned and yawned, his hair sticking up in a  _fantastic_  manner. “I made you coffee," Percy sang, hoping to get on his broody cousin’s good side that morning.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled, pushing past Percy (who was a bit  _too_  bright-eyed and bushy tailed for this hour, if you asked Nico) and stumbling into the kitchen. He made his coffee with his eyes pretty much closed, using a general system of ‘slap random parts of his kitchen until you find what you’re looking for.’

"Who was on the phone?"

"This guy," Nico answered curtly. He didn’t continue for a few minutes—which honestly made Percy reconsider his cousin’s sexuality—but then he finally said, “I met him through a friend. He’s doing some project for his class and asked me for help with the film score."

"Oh, right," Percy said. “You took that one class on it."

Nico nodded, blindly sipping his coffee. “He apologized around twelve times for waking me up."

"I’m just glad  _I_  didn’t have to do it," the older man admitted. “You’re a bit cranky when you wake up."

"And you’re a bit too happy," he snapped, scowling in Percy’s general direction.

"When do you have to meet mystery dude?"

Nico rolled his eyes. “His name is Leo, asshole, and—"

"Oooh, first name basis!"

"Perce, seriously?" the twenty year-old scrubbed his hands over his face. “Leo offered to meet me later since I’m kind of dead right now. Late lunch. So around… one? He even said he would buy."

"A true gentleman," Percy mused. “I approve. Is he cute?"

Brown eyes snapped open, irritation breaking through the haze of sleep. “No. Maybe to, like, girls or something—"

"Right," Percy said sarcastically.

"Would you  _shut up_?" His arms went up to signal the white flag, and Nico sighed, stretching. “Hanging out with Annabeth today?"

A much more awake Percy shrugged, humming to himself and spinning on a barstool. “Maybe. Probably."

"You guys are just attached at the hip, now aren’t you?" Nico teased. “Do you like her? As in, for real, seriously like her."

It was Percy’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “I don’t know."

"You do," the younger boy assured him.

Percy scowled. “How do you know?" Nico sent him a pointed look, making a face as if to say  _it’s way obvious_.

"No, seriously, I want to—"

Nico shouted in alarm as a bird swooped into his apartment through the window. Percy jumped up, backing up into a corner and staring in shock. “How the fu—?"

"Nico, how are we going to get it out?" Percy questioned, a hint of panic in his voice. “Holy god. There is a  _bird_  in your kitchen."

His cousin appeared perplexed before his eyes widened in realization, soon after narrowing in an accusing manner at the green-eyed man he was allowing to stay with him. He jabbed a finger at Percy’s chest. “It’s your stupid curse thing!"

"What? There’s no way it—"

Chirping loudly in a way that tested his patience, the bird took a nosedive straight for Percy. His reflexes allowed him to dodge the attack, but he didn’t escape Nico’s glare. “Go outside!"

"I’m not a  _dog_ , Di Angelo!"

"Get out of my house and let the damned thing follow you,  _Jackson_!" He shoved Percy in the general direction of the door.

With a sigh, Percy said, “Come on, little birdy-thing."

"Don’t talk to it! Just get it out!" Nico shouted.

"Yeah, I’m working on it!"

"Percy, I swear to god, I’ll—"

"Would you stop yelling?" He swung the door open and stepped over the threshold, the bird flying out after him and scampering along the railing. Percy turned to re-enter the apartment, just as the door slammed in his face. “Nico!" he yelled, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Dude, seriously?"

"I’m not having any more birds in my house!"

He heard the television blaring a moment later, and it was the end of that conversation.

"Right," Percy muttered. “Okay, cool." He stared blankly at the door for a second, and he wished his cousin wasn’t so moody. Already dialing her number (which, Percy noticed, he had memorized), he walked down the stairs and watched traffic.

"Annabeth Chase?"

"I’ve been kicked out of my temporary home," he announced in a suave tone. “Care to pick up an attractive man off the side of the road?"

"It’s practically my occupation," she replied sarcastically. “What’d you do?"

"I did nothing. A bird flew through Nico’s window and attacked me."

"Is that some superstitious omen?" He heard the tell-tale sound of door closing through the phone line. “Like the black cat thing?"

Percy cocked his head to the side. “I honestly don’t know. I’ll have to Google it."

He somehow knew Annabeth was smiling. “Get on that. I’ll be there in twenty, loser." The line went dead, and he smiled at the name calling before opening his browser on his phone. He could see well enough through the hairline cracks on his screen.

A few taps later, and Percy was officially in anxiety mode. He called Annabeth again, bouncing on his heels. “What?" she answered.

"It’s a death omen," he let out in a single breath. “Someone’s going to die. The black cat was a death omen, too, along with bad luck and someone’s going to die and I just—"

"Breathe," Annabeth mitigated. “It’s just superstitions. They aren’t always true. Plus, you can’t believe everything you read on the internet."

"I have a bad feeling," he muttered. “What if it’s my mom? _OhmygodAnnabethChasewhatifit’smymother?_ ”

"Don’t think like that! Just… um… maybe it doesn’t mean a  _person_. Maybe… your phone will die!"

Almost on queue, the call dropped and Percy’s phone died before his eyes. He stared at it blankly, wondering if it was real life at all.

Luckily, Annabeth pulled up to the curb a few minutes later, almost shaking with the effort of not laughing. “This is all just too much," she declared upon his entry into the car. He glared at her, closing the car door with a bit more force than necessary. “Don’t take it out on my car!"

"Everything just sucks  _a lot_  right now, Annabeth Chase," he muttered, still adamant about using her first and last name. “I need to call my mom."

Annabeth felt the tiniest pinch of guilt for teasing him, offering Percy her phone. “Go ahead. Call her."

He sighed in relief and took her phone, typing in the numbers as if it were a dire need, which—Annabeth reminded herself—it probably was to him. She watched him with her peripheral vision as he scrubbed his free hand over his face in a distressed manner.

He nearly died of relief when his mom answered, and Annabeth wasn’t  _intentionally_ listening in, but his mom talked fairly loud and Percy wasn’t exactly being secretive. Their conversation went pretty much like this:

Percy: “Hi, Mom!"

His mom: “Oh, hi sweetie! I wasn’t sure who it was. What number is this? Did you buy a new phone?"

Percy: “No ma’am, I’m borrowing my friend Annabeth’s."

His mom: " _Oh_. Annabeth. That sounds like a girl name. Is it that—?"

Percy: “Yeah, it is. Anyways, I was just calling to check on you."

His mom: “Superstition stuff?"

Percy: “Yeah."

His mom: “I’m fine. I’ll keep my eyes open though. Paul just got home; have a good day sweetheart! I’ll tell you more after me and Paul get back from Montauk. You know we never get good service there. I love you!"

Percy: “Bye, love you, too."

And  _no_ , Annabeth did  _not_  think the whole ‘mama’s boy’ thing was cute. Percy handed her the cellphone with a normal expression, before it twisted into confusion. “Wait, _Montauk_?"

* * *

Apparently Montauk Beach was something very sentimental to Percy and his mother. They’d gone nearly every summer when he was younger, up until the point that he became a senior in high school and eventually went away to college. And now, her and Paul had booked a cabin together  _without Percy_.

Needless to say, Percy wasn’t very happy about that.

"I just want to know  _why_. Why wouldn’t she tell me that they were going?" he ranted, lying flat down on the floor. He had tripped over one of her rugs about walking in, and seemingly didn’t have the will to get up.

"Maybe it just slipped her mind," Annabeth suggested. “People get busy. Trust me, I’m a woman. Things slip our minds all the time. I’m sure she wasn’t  _intentionally_  trying to hurt your feelings."

"But still," Percy persisted, “that’s  _our_  thing. Like how fortunes are  _our_  thing. How would you feel if I walked up to another girl and read her a fortune?"

"I wouldn’t get too riled up about it," she lied. Truth was, merely the thought of it made her stomach turn. “You would surely have a reason."

"It’s still not fair," Percy grumbled. “I tell her  _everything_. I told her about you within twenty-four hours of meeting you, but she said it— _Montauk_ —like they’d been planning it forever. “Why didn’t she tell me?"

Annabeth blinked. “You told your mother about me?"

"Duh, he said simply, giving her a  _did you even have to ask?_  look. “Usually you brag a little when you meet your soul mate. I told her all about you, and she’s been planning the Montauk trip for how long? Do you know how far you have to schedule cabins in advance? At least a month. She had plenty of time to mention it."

"Did you ever think that  _maybe_  this is the reason she didn’t tell you? She knew you would take it poorly,"Annabeth replied, her annoyance spiking.

"I would have taken it fine!"

"Don’t yell at me, I’m on  _your_  side!" She huffed indignantly. “No wonder Nico kicked you out."

"It was because of the bird!" Percy shouted indignantly.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, the pure image of annoyance, and patience worn thin. “Percy, you need to either get laid or eat a cheeseburger."

There was a harsh silence, in which she cursed her filter or lack thereof, and he processed her statement. “Did you… just tell me that I needed to either… get laid or eat a cheeseburger?" Percy repeated the words in a confused and broken manner.

She felt her irritation revive itself. “I did."

Percy was quiet for a moment, and then—he couldn’t stop laughing. “Jesus Christ," he managed, nearly wheezing. “Did you really just say that?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Well, was I lying?"

He managed to take a few deep breaths, rubbing his hand over his face, bright and lively from the laughter. “I don’t think anyone’s ever talked to me like that, Annabeth Chase."

"That’s why we’re soul mates," she told him easily. “Now, are you going to take me up on the offer of a cheeseburger?"

"I can’t choose the other one?"

"You could," Annabeth decided, “but I’d be dropping you off at the nearest corner and… Well, you’d have to figure the rest out for yourself."

Percy smiled at her, shaking his head. “I’d love a cheeseburger."

"Great." She pushed herself up off the couch and offered him a hand. Unlike Annabeth, he wasn’t afraid to accept help as he clasped his hand in hers. She helped him up without even blinking, turning to walk away, but Percy grasped her shoulder. “What?"

He shoved his hand in his pocket and came back with a stack of white papers, a rubber band stretched around it. “Let’s see…" he muttered to himself, choosing one out of his collection. "’ _Allow yourself to be helped and the reward will be bountiful_.’ I’m jealous, you keep getting all of these good fortunes," Percy whined. “Share the good luck."

"Is there any weird superstitious way to pass it on?"

He looked contemplative. “Maybe. Remember how it was passed on in ‘Just My Luck’?"

"The movie with Chris Pine?" Annabeth asked for clarification, looking around for her keys. “Yeah, they just kissed and then the—Percy!" Her eyes snapped to him as it hit her.

He smiled at her realization. “It doesn’t sound like it’s a  _bad_  idea."

"You’re such a guy," she accused, finally retrieving her keys and smiling against her own will. “The epitome of a high-school boy, with the clear record even though you’re practically a juvenile delinquent. Wearing your stupid varsity jacket everyday, new girl every week… That’s the vibe you give me, Percy Jackson." Annabeth pushed open her front door, gesturing for Percy to follow.

"Your lucky numbers are 2, 5, 32, 86, 7 and 9. You’re kind of strong," he called after her.

Annabeth stopped in her tracks, turning to face him as he closed her front door behind him. “That’s what happens when you’re in a gang."

Percy paused mid-step, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, what?"

"You develop strength when you’re in a gang," she said, sounding as though it were a well-known fact and not a big deal at all. He stared at her in confusion. There was no way  _this_  Annabeth Chase was in a gang. Though, she could have changed her appearance in order to—"Percy, you idiot."

"What?"

"I wasn’t really in a gang. Did you seriously believe me?" Annabeth scoffed and rolled her eyes. “The most I’ve done is beat up this red-headed nightmare in sixth grade."

"You had on a really serious face," Percy informed her, smiling. “What did she do?" she started walking again, opening her car door, but leaning on the top of her car.

"She kissed Luke Castellan," Annabeth shared, cracking a smile and leaning on her hands. “I liked him. End of story."

"Harsh," he commented, leaning on the hood, mirroring her. “I take it you’re possessive?"

She shrugged, drumming her hands on the car. “More like… just, what’s mine is mine, I guess." Annabeth gave him a final shrug before getting into her car and jamming the key into the ignition. Percy let himself into the passenger seat, watching Annabeth buckle her seatbelt, yank it to make sure it was steady, adjust all mirrors and finally back out of the driveway.

He’d started noticing little things about her; like the way she went about things or little quirks here and there. No matter how OCD she was, she would never retie her hair, simply letting curls fall out little by little and continuously tucking them behind her ears. No matter how much she hated small, repetitive noises, she would tap her steering wheel. She was probably one of the most interesting people to observe. “You are staring at me," Annabeth informed Percy point-blankly.

"I am," he agreed simply, cocking his head to the side. “Problem?"

Annabeth turned her head, and maybe it was some weird soul mate thing, but he knew she was smiling when she said, “nope."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's a bit superstitious and Annabeth's a little too busy trying to stay busy. Fate's not always cruel.

They walked through the diner doors. Annabeth stopped in her tracks. Then, she sprinted across the restaurant shouting, “THALIA!" like a madwoman.

Percy jumped and stared at her in alarm, along with the other people in the restaurant. After they were done staring at the crazy lady, they directed their glances to him, which he returned with a winsome smile and wave. “Annie!" She and another girl shared a dramatic hug and Annabeth fired off a million questions before the girl, Thalia, raised an eyebrow at the tall, black-haired man standing by the doors. “Who are you?" she questioned, effectively cutting Annabeth off.

He cleared his throat, taking the few steps over to them. “I’m Percy."

"Okay?" Thalia had bright blue eyes that seemed to watch your every move as if she were preparing herself for snapping your neck in one motion. Her hair was cropped and dark, a few tattoos splayed across her skin here and there, a piercing on the left side of her nose. If Annabeth were to see her walking down the street, she’d steer clear, but she also understood Thalia well enough to know that she wasn’t as ‘hardcore’ as she made herself look.

"Anyways," Annabeth said, directing Thalia’s judging stare away from Percy. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you forever."

The dark haired girl cocked her head to the side. “I thought I told you." Annabeth shook her head mutely. “Oh. I was in the mountains. Photography things. There were a few wolves; they were  _gorgeous_ …" Thalia kept on babbling about all of the new pictures she’d taken and how photography was seriously  _her_  career; about how she was already signed up for a million workshops, but Annabeth knew her better than that. She gave Thalia maybe a week before she quit photography and moved onto another choice career. "… I would love to go back, really." Blue eyes drifted from Annabeth’s attentive grey ones to Percy’s mildly bored green orbs. “Who are you though?"

"Percy," he repeated.

"That’s cool," Thalia said sarcastically. “I meant, how did you meet Annie here?"

Percy smiled wryly at Annabeth who mirrored a similar look. “If you aren’t busy," the blonde offered, “we can tell you over lunch."

"Incidentally, I’m free," Thalia agreed, turning to order her food.

Annabeth half-coughed, half-laughed. “Are you planning on giving her the whole ‘soul mate’ spiel?" she questioned the man next to her under her breath.

Percy smiled. “Why would I tell her anything besides the truth?" She raised a calculating eyebrow in response, giving him a once-over before stepping forward in line. “She’s not going to hit me, right?"

Annabeth snorted lightly, shrugging. “Depends on whether or not she likes you."

"Any tips on getting her to like me?"

"Don’t even look at me. Don’t even  _think_  about looking at me." Percy sent Annabeth an alarmed look because  _how in god’s name was he supposed to look away from Annabeth for an entire meal_ , but she just laughed. “Don’t look nervous. I think she’s like an animal. She smells fear."

Percy wasn’t sure if he should be freaked out or really amazed by that fact, but luckily the cashier said a chipper greeting and a ‘what can I get for you two?’

Right as he and Annabeth sat down with their Wendy’s, Thalia shot off, “How’d you two meet?"

As casually as he could manage, Percy took a bite of his cheeseburger, nudging Annabeth and nodding for her to take the wheel. She scowled, shaking her head, and he narrowed his eyes. “I will buy you one million black cats and put them inside your house," he threatened under his breath.

"I’ll put salt shakers on every surface in your house so that you have to knock them over."

"Mirrors on every inch of your walls. You know you’ll break them."

"I’ll buy you thirteen gifts in sets of thirteens with thirteen parts and the number thirteen written on every—single—one."

"I will put a ladder outside your door and weld it to the wall so that you have to walk under it every day."

"I will cut the roof of off your house so that you’ll have to open an umbrella inside everytime it rains."

"You are aware that I can hear you two, right?" Thalia asked, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, if this Percy guy whispered any louder, people in China would hear him."

"Not like they would understand. People in China don’t even speak English," he snapped.

"Some do. But that’s not the point." She narrowed her eyes at him. “Annabeth, where do you find these guys?" Percy was determined to not be affected by the fact that the word ‘guys’ was plural, but his face apparently showed his shock. “That’s right," Thalia said with a nod, “don’t think you’re the first."

"Maybe not," Percy agreed, his voice firm. “But obviously none of those guys were permanent, otherwise they would be here. So, I’ll be the first to stay."

It was deathly silent for a moment in which Annabeth stared out the window; Percy stared at the table; and Thalia cast her glance back and forth between the two of them. “All right. Seriously. Where did you meet this guy?"

Annabeth smiled like she and her friend were sharing an inside joke. She sent Thalia a questioning look, in which the dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. Percy assumed it was some weird girl-talk thing. “Traffic," the blonde said finally, daintily eating a fry. “We met in traffic."

"You’re a cop, then?" Thalia questioned, directing her attention to him.

"Aspiring writer and pizza delivery man," Percy corrected lightly. Blue eyes shot over to Annabeth, conveying a bored look as though he weren’t even there.

"What was all the talk about black cats and ladders?"

Annabeth took this as her cue to jump in. “Percy’s superstitious."

"A lot of people are," Thalia replied with a shrug.

"No," the blonde stressed. “Percy is  _superstitious_. As in, not a hobby or something he occasionally keeps up with."

The dark-haired girl scrunched up her nose, making the spray of freckles across it bunch up. “Odd."

"Thanks," he answered genuinely. As far as he was concerned, that was a compliment.

"And why did you keep him?" Thalia asked, talking to Annabeth.

"We kept meeting—"

"Because we’re soul mates," he interjected.

"—So it was kind of inevitable," she finished, raising an eyebrow at Percy. “You didn’t want to wait a little while before doing that?"

"She already hates me," he decided. “Might as well drop all the bombs before she starts to like me a little, just to hate me again."

Thalia looked a bit surprised at his blatancy. “Anything else I should know?"

He thought for a moment. “I love my mom."

The blue-eyed girl rolled her eyes and scoffed. " _Wow_ , Annabeth, you’ve truly outdone yourself. Superstitious, delivers pizzas and a mama’s boy. This is a new one."

"It’s not like we’re,"—Annabeth cast her gaze out the window—" _together_  or anything."

"Just soul mates," she deadpanned.

"Soul mates doesn’t have to be romantic," Percy intervened. “It can be anyone, honestly. Just someone who you connect with on a deep level, to the point that you just  _get_  each other. It’s not about ‘being in a relationship’ or whatever. It’s just… you know, knowing them, soul-deep."

"Jesus Christ," Thalia said in shock, “you really are a writer."

"What reason do I have to lie?"

The intimidating girl before him glanced him up and down, either criticizing or praising him. “He plays baseball."

Annabeth seemed to perk up. “Oh does he?"

"No, I don’t," Percy put in.

"He definitely does," Thalia said. “He has the perfect body for it."

This made Annabeth laugh. “Agreed."

"Also seems like he’s hit a home run?"

"Maybe," she said, cocking her head to the side. “I actually haven’t asked."

"I don’t play baseball," Percy reiterated.

"Lots of fans, then?" Thalia questioned.

"No," he said.

"Probably," Annabeth decided.

"Does he have a particular fan he appreciates more?"

"I don’t have fans," Percy commented.

"Undetermined," the blonde said with a shrug.

"Interesting," Thalia decided, leaning back in her seat. “Very interesting." She set her sights on Percy. “I’m Thalia Grace. I’m Annabeth’s best friend; we’re pretty much sisters. Don’t do anything stupid." She leaned over the table and gave Annabeth a quick hug, muttering some excuse about how she really needed to go and gave Percy a nod.

After she’d swept out of the room, attracting the eyes of more than one guy in the diner, Annabeth started laughing to herself. “What?" Percy asked, smiling slightly at her happiness.

“‘I will buy a million black cats and put them inside your house,’" she mimicked. “Is that your idea of a threat?"

"Maybe, Annabeth Chase, but I didn’t see you coming up with anything better." He shot her a look, gathering all of their trash off of the table and shoving it onto the tray.

"Really?" Annabeth stood after he did. “I thought the umbrella one was pretty creative."

"Yeah, well…" Percy trailed off as he struggled to find a suitable come back. “Whatever."

She snorted. “You loser. ‘Whatever’? Are we in sixth grade?"

"That was about your level of creativity," he retaliated, holding the door open for Annabeth. She walked through it quickly and jogged to her car, jumping in the driver’s seat and seemingly waiting for Percy. He shrugged, assuming she’d gotten some sort of urge to exercise, and walked at a normal pace to the vehicle.

The moment his hand touched the door handle, he heard the tell-tale click of doors locking. He bent down, meeting her eyes through the window and narrowing his eyes, mouthing insults at her. She laughed, shaking her head and shrugging helplessly at him as if to say  _figure it out for yourself_. Percy nodded simply, standing to his full height and shouting, “Annabeth Chase is a loser!" He leaned down again, shooting her a grin. “She was also in a gang!"

Annabeth swung her door open, resting her hands on the roof of her car and laughing. “Really? You’re the one who was stupid enough to believe that."

"True," Percy agreed. A moment later, he dropped down and started making his way around the back of her car. Annabeth jumped up craned her neck to see if he was hiding on the other side for whatever reason, but she realized his plan too late.

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and tore her away from her car, spinning her in circles as he laughed right in her ear. “You fell for  _that_ , Annabeth Chase!"

"I know!" she yelled back, laughing despite herself. “Put me down!"

He stopped spinning, but only held her to his chest tighter, just high enough that her feet couldn’t touch the ground no matter how she stretched her toes. “Why would I do that?"

"Because I’m going to kick you if you don’t!"

In one swift movement, Percy swung her so that he was carrying her bridal style. She punched his chest, but it wouldn’t have even hurt a mouse, seeing as she was way too exhausted from laughter to manage a good, strong hit. “Why would you do that?" he questioned, smiling at her stupidly.

She grinned back, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss his cheek, which startled him just enough for her to scramble out of his arms. “Annabeth Chase, one. Percy Jackson, zero," she jeered as she hurried back into her car, rolling down her window just the slightest bit so that he could hear her talk.

"Unsportsmanlike conduct!" he accused.

"Excuse me!" a third voice cut in. “You are disrupting our filming!"

Percy’s head whipped around to face a group of four college-newbie aged kids. One was holding a nice video camera, pointing it away as soon as the green-eyed man noticed his filming. He saw a tell-tale red blinking light that alerting him that he and Annabeth had been recorded.

"We weren’t even filming yet," a girl with tan skin said, waving off the blonde boy’s comment. She tugged on a braid in her hair, smiling. “Well, at least we weren’t filming _our_  movie yet. Leo got a little bit video camera happy, it seems."

Percy smiled amicably. “It’s totally cool." The boy behind the camera raised his hand as though he were supposed to be called on. Unsure of what to do, Percy pointed to him and said, “shoot."

"Well, I was," the boy said in a jokester voice. “I mean, I was shooting. As in filming. Get it?" Percy blinked. “Anyways, I was wondering if maybe we could use some of the footage?"

"Oh," Percy said, glancing at Annabeth. “Like, of… us?"

"Yeah," the boy said. He winked at the harsh looking girl. “Or me and Reyna could recreate it."

"I’d sooner die," the girl with dark eyes replied, but Percy thought she didn’t look very displeased.

He looked at the college aged students, and considered the fact that they all had hopes and dreams beyond college. He wouldn’t at all mind being one of the reasons they passed. “Sure. It’s fine."

"Really?" the girl, Reyna, asked. “Are you sure?" Percy nodded earnestly. “Oh, that’s… awesome! Do you mind giving us your names?"

He turned to Annabeth, who gave him a shrug. “Susanna and Percy Jackson." He heard her laugh behind his back, and he grinned at the four kids, waving at them all before moving to the passenger side.

Percy pulled on the handle, laughing in disbelief as he realized it was still locked. Leaning down, he gave Annabeth a look, and she relented, unlocking the door. “I think we just became movie stars," she stated, staring at the four teens. The boy with blonde hair, the original one who’d seemed upset, was speaking with grand gestures, the others nodding in agreement.

"We sure did,  _Susanna_ ," Percy replied with humor. She rolled her eyes and turned the key in the ignition, backing out of the parking spot after she adjusted the air conditioning.

"I just realized," Annabeth said, “that you didn’t give them my last name."

"Susanna and Percy  _Jackson_ ," he explained. “I sure did."

"That gives the illusion that we’re married."

"Or related," he agreed.

"Do brothers and sisters kiss each other’s cheeks?" Annabeth said thoughtfully. “I might’ve blown our cover."

"I’m pretty sure we didn’t look like siblings." He sent her a sidelong glance and she nodded. “Just a feeling."

"That probably did look very married couple-esque."

"Yeah." There was a heavy silence in which Percy tapped his hand on his knee and Annabeth appeared immersed in driving. “Why did it just get weird?" Percy blurted.

She shook her head. “I think we just ran out of things to say. That was a first."

He chuckled. “We honestly always have something to say, though." As soon as the words left his mouth, Percy jumped in alarm, his mind racing. “Um—"

Annabeth pulled the glove box open, pointing nondescriptly. “Look in there."

He shoved a few CDs aside—she was a Coldplay fan, Percy noticed with approbation—and finally came across a pen. It didn’t work of course, and he scrounged for another one.

_When there’s a silence, it’s not so much that you’ve run out of things to say. It’s that you’ve settled into comfortability with the person. There’s no need for words, because words just take up space in which actions could fill. Why use words to explain when they already get it? It’s a waste of your breath and waste of their time. Silence with her isn’t the absence of sound. Maybe it’s the absence of a need for sound._

He let his eyes skim over the page, twirling his pen in his hand before shutting his notebook contently. “Cool," Percy mumbled to himself, dropping the pen in the glovebox and having to try and close it three times before it stayed.

"The curse isn’t gone," Annabeth noted.

"I think I’ll know when it’s gone. Like, I’ll  _feel_  it or something. A weight lifted off my shoulders, perhaps." He stared out the window for a moment, thinking carefully to himself. “Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I could actually be a writer?" He turned to her, waiting for an honest answer, regardless of if it was what he wanted to hear.

Annabeth bit her lip. Questions like these were hard, because there wasn’t a wrong or right answer, which was what she was used to. Textbook smart? Sure. But ask her about what  _she_  personally thought? Annabeth could never come up with an answer. “I think…" She sighed, taking a right and pulling one of her feet up into the seat.

"Tell me the truth," Percy enjoined. “I really want to know."

"I don’t know," she told him, “and that’s my issue. I’ve been told that people can do anything they want, so as long as they have the right mindset. And you do, so…"

"Thanks," he said, “but I want to know what  _you_  think. Not what someone else has told you."

Pursing her lips, Annabeth stopped at the red light. “I think you could," she decided. “You, from what I’ve heard, can write. And as long as you can, I don’t see why you wouldn’t."

Her answer was inadequate; even she knew that. Regardless, Percy smiled, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, Anna _be_." She rolled her eyes, skimming her nails over her steering wheel. He stared out the window again, and Annabeth noticed that the silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. Percy turned in his seat to face her, closing his eyes and leaning against the window. “I think I could go for a nap," he decided.

"Do you want me to take you back to Nico’s? Or…?" She glanced at him as she trailed off, not sure if asking him over was assuming.

"I’d love to nap at your house, Annabeth Chase, if you’d have me. I think Nico’s not letting me within a ten mile radius of his apartment again. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s out to lunch with this guy right now." He briefly registered her nodding out of the corner of his eye as she stopped at the red light. They were idling near a beach, and Percy could just barely see the waves falling on the shore before receding. He was reminded of the few sentences he’d scribed a while ago, the first day he and Annabeth intentionally got together at the library. “You could always be an architect," Percy said suddenly.

"What?" Annabeth asked, giving him an odd look.

"Be an architect."

"Do you know how hard it is to get a job in that industry? There’s no way I could—"

"Wait!" Percy shouted, pulling out his phone. “Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

"Waiting?"

He dialed a number on his phone, calling the pizza place he worked at and immediately asking to speak to the manager. “Hey, Mr. Argie! I’m good, thanks." Annabeth watched the light turn to green, half-driving and half-eavesdropping on Percy’s conversation with his boss. “No, I’m not working until Saturday, I think. Anyways, remember how last week you were saying that the place needed a new look?"

Annabeth’s eyes widened in alarm and she slugged Percy in the shoulder, frantically gesturing  _no_. “Oh," he said, his voice hitching. “You already have people willing to build, you just aren’t sure what to do?  _Interesting_."

"Percy," she whispered with a threatening tone to her voice.

"Oh, I  _might_  know someone." He glanced at Annabeth smiling and giving her a thumbs up, then tossing the phone at her. Giving him a panicked look, she caught it and answered smoothly.

"Annabeth Chase."

"I hear you might have some good ideas for a pizza parlor? We want to expand a little, not be branded as  _just_  a delivery place, if you understand?"

"Completely, Mister…?"

"I’m Joseph Argent, but people tend to call me Argie. What do you think about this weekend? You can just come in when Percy works, if that makes you more comfortable."

"That’s perfect," Annabeth breathed, feeling breathless. “Thank you so much."

"You’re welcome. I look forward to meeting you!" Mr. Argie hung up before she had the chance to reply, and she tossed Percy’s phone back to him.

"You jerk!" She glanced both ways before continuing past the last stop sign before her house. She reached out to hit him, but Percy just caught her hand and laughed gleefully.

"I got you a job, Annabeth Chase!"

She pulled into a parking spot, accidentally taking up two. “I  _hate_  you!" she exclaimed, but her smile said otherwise.

He gave her a sarcastic look, patting her cheek. “You got a job," Percy sang. “This was my goal all along!" His eyes skimmed over her face for a moment before he took his hand away and attempted to open the door.

Sadly, the handle broke off in his hand, leaving him to carry a piece of grey plastic. “Um, Annabeth…"

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go get some glue, loser." The blonde backed out of the parking spaces and drove them to the nearest store, which hopefully had super glue. “Everything you touch breaks, Jackson," she teased as they walked through the sliding doors. Slyly, she stuck out her foot and tripped him.

Percy stumbled, stopping in his tracks and staring at Annabeth in astonishment. “Did you  _really_  just trip me?"

Walking backwards, she nodded. “I did, Percy Jackson." With a challenging glint in her eye, she disappeared down the next aisle. He tried to find her, but his phone vibrated with a new text message from Annabeth.

_Hide and seek?_

He smiled. She was definitely more mature and smart, but she would never be able to beat him in kid games; it was his forte. Shooting back a simple ‘ _you’re on, chase,_ ’ Percy leaned around the corner, searching through the small groups of people wandering down each aisle. “If I were an Annabeth," he muttered to himself, “where would I hide?"

He could be bad at reading people, but Annabeth sure seemed like the type to hide in the place he would least expect her to: the toy aisle.

She leaned past a small kiosk just as Percy strolled past her aisle, definitely with a purpose. She was twenty-three and playing hide-and-seek in a Wal-Mart, for Christ’s sake, but the small adrenaline rush was inevitable. Sure, she didn’t  _look_  eighteen, but in that moment, Annabeth felt like it.

Deciding to see where Percy thought she was, Annabeth wandered behind him at a safe distance. It was going fine, until he abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned around, seeing her standing right in the middle of the two shelves. With a smile, he shouted, “I found the gang leader!"

Annabeth was torn between running up to him and sealing his mouth with her hand and running away, but she decided on the latter, slipping around the corner and attempting to make herself invisible against a small stand of spices.

She was about to lean back around the corner and see if he was coming at all, but two hands covered her eyes. “I found you, Chase." Annabeth attempted to elbow him, but her attempts were all in vain when he removed his hands, tapped her right shoulder and said in her left ear: “tag, you’re it," before rushing down the hallway.

The game of hide-and-seek was the first time Annabeth had felt like a teenager again since she’d became an adult. She couldn’t stop laughing every time she found Percy is random places (browsing the selection of books, “testing" a grape or two, picking up a whole knocked down display of chips) and he always had the best expressions on his face when he realized he’d been found.

Eventually—and naturally—an employee asked them politely to leave, to which Percy responded by flashing his charming smile and breathlessly agreeing to leave right after Annabeth completed their original task: get super glue. She was half-laughing, half-wheezing right alongside Percy the whole time until they sat in her car and collapsed into another fit of laughter. “We’re so stupid," Annabeth managed, nearly choking on air.

"Yeah, but we’re young," Percy replied, inhaling deeply. “God, I haven’t done anything that dumb since high school." Still smiling, he retrieved the super glue out of the grocery bag and set to work on fixing the handle.

"That was really fun," she admitted, having not really done anything crazy in her actual teen years. Annabeth had always been the one over-studying and reading classic novels from the greatest writers of all time in her moments of freedom.

Percy smiled at her, reaching out and removing something that looked an awful lot like a seahorse sticker from her hair. “How did that get there?"

"I was wondering the same thing about that," she said, pointing to a spot on his shirt. He glanced down, and Annabeth flicked his nose, nearly doubling over with laughter. “Did you just fall for that? Oh my  _god_ , you just fell for that!"

"You always look so serious!" Percy said, defending himself through his childish laughter. The doorhandle dried on, just a little bit crooked, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it. Annabeth was too filled with the spirit of having fun to even care. Percy decided it was a good look on her.

"Still feeling that nap?" she questioned, sending him a sidelong glance, pulling into a parking with precision.

"Let’s do it. Let’s go inside and pass out, that way we wake up around nine and stay up all night," he suggested.

"What is there to do at nine at night besides get dinner or get drunk?" Annabeth inquired, swinging her keys around her index finger as she waited for Percy to get out of the car. “I mean, for two twenty-three year-olds, anyways."

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Annabeth Chase, you have not yet lived. You’ll see tonight." Percy met her at the front of the car. “Where would you be without me?"

"Probably watching television and eating cold Chinese food," she replied honestly, inhaling deeply when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, laughing. “Drowning in self-pity." Annabeth shrugged off his arm to unlock the door, passing over the threshold and slipping off her light jacket. She briefly noticed that she didn’t even try to close the door behind her on reflex; lately it was more of a reflex to leave it open for Percy to shuffle inside behind her.

He replaced his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest for a hug that was probably way more comfortable for him than the blond being squished against his chest. He smelled distinctly like the ocean, almost as if he bathed in salt water and the fresh air of the beach. “I got the couch, Anna _be_. Wake me up when you wake up."

"Who says you won’t wake up before me?" Annabeth questioned after Percy released her from his bear hug. The hug had annoyed her while she was in it, but now that the show of affection was done and over with, Annabeth could honestly say that she missed it. But only a little.

He smiled, the same smile she’d seen a million times; the one that said he knew more than her, but not in a degrading manner. Almost in an ‘ _I can’t wait until you figure it out, too; until it’s seared into your mind and you can never forget it’_ way _._  “Just trust me on this one."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow and nodded, giving him a two finger salute before ambling down her hallway and entering her room. She tossed her jacket on the corner of her bed, hesitating for a moment before changing into sweatpants (God knows how people managed to fall asleep in jeans) and slipping underneath her covers.

Her last conscious thought was:  _I hope Percy found the blankets in the corner._

**xxxxx**

Annabeth had a peculiar dream.

When she woke up, she went over the scenario three times in her head before finally saying, “What the hell?" to herself aloud.

To describe it as random was an understatement. Within her realm of dreams, Annabeth had been pouring honey into her mouth, walking her new dog, and carrying a sack of potatoes. How she’d managed all of that with two hands, Annabeth wasn’t sure, but the weirdest part was the end.

She’d walked into a bathroom in a store and her dream-self had planned on retying her hair. However, when she looked in the mirror, she wasn’t Annabeth. She was an older version of the red-head she’d slugged when she was little, her face still baby-ish since Annabeth had a stunning lack of imagination (even when dreaming) and would never be able to guess what she looked like now. Her clothes had been splattered in paint and she was wearing an old t-shirt that said something about a swim team.

Luckily, she’d woken up after that  _nightmare_ , seeing that it was precisely 6:03 at night. Then she’d swung her legs out of bed, stretched, and trudged down the hallway to wake up Percy. She could hear him snoring before she even entered the living room, and while she made a face initially, Annabeth decided it was kind of cute when she saw him drooling. She would have expected nothing less from  _the_  Percy Jackson.

He woke up easily—which was great, since he often hinted at the fact that she’d be the one waking him up every morning—but Percy also liked to stay lying down until he was fully awake. “Percy."

"What?"

"Get up."

"I  _am_ ," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I mean physically."

"Yeah? Well,  _I_  mean shut up," Percy snapped, sleepily wiping his face off. “That’s a little gross."

"Just a little," Annabeth agreed with a falsely disgusted face. “What about you isn’t though?"

He glared at her. “Shut up, Annabeth Chase. I am not afraid to order you one million black cats."

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed. “I’ll make coffee?"

"Thank you, milady." He stood up straight, stretched his arms to their extremities and yawned. “The nap was a bad idea. Now I’m just really tired."

"Hence, the coffee," Annabeth said, not even bothering to protest when Percy’s arm fell across her shoulders.

"I’m tired," he whined, burying his face in her hair.  _Lemons_ , he noted. “Your hair smells good."

"Thanks?" she answered, raising an eyebrow and more or less dragging him to the kitchen.

After Percy had a cup of coffee in front of him, he took a sip and gave Annabeth all of his attention. “How’d you sleep?"

"Good. Weird dream though. And you?"

"I slept fine. What kind of dream?" Percy questioned curiously, listening to Annabeth attentively as she gave him a play-by-play of her dream. “So, let me get this straight," he said. “You had a dream that you were the redhead that you beat up in the fifth grade."

"Sixth grade," Annabeth corrected. “But other than that, yes."

"Interesting."

"Is there a superstition about that?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were starting to become interested in superstition, Annabeth Chase."

"What’s with the first and last name thing?" she asked. His habit of saying both had been picking at her conscience for a while.

Percy paused in front of the coffee pot, having recently filled up his coffee cup again, his hand still poised to stir his drink. “I… don’t know." He put down the spoon and stared at her. “I guess it’s because… you shouldn’t be known by any other name. Nicknames, sure, but you are who you are, Annabeth Chase. That, and the fact that I don’t want anyone else to turn around when I say your name. First and last names are actually a great practice in order to avoid awkward moments."

Annabeth sipped her coffee, letting it warm her up as bring her closer to consciousness. “Only you would be able to make that both philosophical and very logical."

Percy grinned, a childish stupid one that made Annabeth’s heart flutter a bit more than was acceptable. “It’s a gift."

Her response was a bit delayed as her eyes locked on his hair, which was flat on one side and wild on the other. It was a perfect description of Percy as a person: deep and meaningful sometimes, obnoxiously impulsive and loud other times. “Right."

"Right," Percy repeated with a laugh. “We need to get something to eat."

She hummed in agreement. “What are you feeling?"

 _What an interesting question,_  he thought to himself as he fondly watched her.  _What_ am _I feeling?_

"Chinese?" Percy suggested, pushing the inner turmoil away for the moment. “I’m running a little bit low on fortunes."

Annabeth smiled, pouring the remainder of her coffee down the sink. “Let’s do it."

"I’ll pay?"

"For yourself. I’ll pay for me."

"What if I  _want_  to pay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, come on, you do everything."

"Well, you planned tonight, so the least I can do is pay," she argued.

"Let me pay, Annabeth Chase!" Percy ordered loudly, slamming his fist on the counter and making the coffee pot clank a bit. He turned to her with an angelic smile and a sweet, “Please?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “If you insist."

"I wear the pants in this relationship," he stated proudly, puffing out his chest. “And I say we go eat before I die of starvation."

"Agreed," Annabeth said, scooping up the keys off the table on the way out the door. Percy filed out behind her, and she didn’t even have the resistance to give him a dirty look when he opened the car door for her.

Just as she was about to get in the car, Annabeth turned abruptly. “Wait."

Percy leaned on the top of her car door, which was currently serving as a barrier between them. “Yeah?"

"Did we decide where to go?"

"Chinese," he stated.

"There’s a lot of Chinese places," Annabeth pointed out. “Which one?" He paused, and Annabeth assumed it was because he was considering her question, but after a good thirty seconds, she snapped her fingers in front on his face. “Percy? Earth to Percy?"

"Uh, sorry." She noted that his face looked just a small bit redder than it was a few moments ago. “Just whatever. The first one we see."

"Are you blu—?"

"No, I’m not!" Percy said defensively. “It’s just… hot outside."

"Wow, I totally believe you," Annabeth replied with an eyeroll. “You really must be telling the truth."

"Don’t get sassy with me, Annabeth Chase. Just because you’re my soul mate doesn’t mean there’s not other women I  _could_  date," he attempted to threaten her.

"Go ahead." She sent him a challenging look.

Percy narrowed his eyes. “I won’t. But only because  _I_  don’t want to, not because you said so."

"Of course," Annabeth said, her voice saccharine. “Remind me again, why are men so stubborn to admit they’re wrong?"

He laughed, and she thought maybe the sun came out from behind the clouds, despite the late hour. “We aren’t. We’re just stubborn to admit that women are right." His eyes scanned over her face, and his expression waned into something serious. Percy reached a hand forward—hesitantly at first, but then he gained confidence as he held Annabeth’s cheek. His eyes seemed to get a faraway look, and she thought maybe she’d have to scrounge around for a pen, but Percy started talking. “It’s weird," he decided, his words soft spoken and almost confused. “It’s like… I miss you, but I’ve never known you before this. I just feel like there’s something I’m missing out on with you; this huge joke I’m just not getting, and I want to. I feel like I hardly know you and yet I know you better than everyone and it’s a weird feeling, Annabeth Chase. I’ve never missed someone who’s right in front of me."

His speech paused, and he ran the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. She was trying to avoid his gaze—lots of attention had never been her favorite thing—but it was difficult. Annabeth was twenty three years old, and getting  _butterflies_  for Christ’s sake. Didn’t they have an age limit or something?

Percy’s eyes were still searching her face, as if trying to find the punchline of the joke he mentioned, but Annabeth did what she did best: avoided any sort of feelings. “Well, no need to miss me, dork. I’m right here." She ruffled his hair and stepped into her car, sliding in the key and letting the engine turn over. Percy looked a little confused, and maybe just a tad frustrated as he closed her door, but he sat in the passenger seat and didn’t say a word.

In fact, the car ride was almost entirely silent besides the one time he’d said, “Sorry," when they both tried resting their arms on the console. He left his arm there, leaving their skin to touch and Annabeth to blush and Percy to pretend he wasn’t getting high off the skin-on-skin contact. And she didn’t have the strength to move her arm, because as much as she’d like to deny it, Annabeth loved being close to Percy. It gave her a sense of comfortability and safeness that she couldn’t describe; it just  _was_.

Maybe it was another weird soul mate thing. Or not.

They stopped at the closest Chinese restaurant, which was no more than five miles away from Annabeth’s house, and they kept up a conversation. She tried to talk about Percy’s writing, but he changed the topic. Despite his shameless confession that he wanted to be a writer, Percy was quite shy of his work. She wanted to know what he wrote in that little orange notebook; she wanted to know if her name had been scrawled across a single page (but hopefully, more than one page).

When she finally got up the nerve to ask if he’d read her something from the pages, Percy cast his gaze on the table and shook his head. “Why not?" Annabeth asked, not unkindly, just curiously.

He laughed a little, but she sensed a bit of nervousness. She was good at that—sensing emotions. Or maybe just with Percy. “I’m afraid it’ll change how you see me."

"What does that mean?"

He pursed his lips, looking out the window and watching the cars zoom by. “Sometimes I’m not in the best state when I write. Sometimes I am, and I still end up writing things that I don’t think I’d ever publish. The things I write in there… I’m not sure if  _I_  could read them, honestly."

"You read to me that one time, on the beach," Annabeth pointed out. “What about that?"

"I’ve reread that piece a million times. I usually don’t go back and read my work; I write it and I’m done with it," he explained. “The thing with my dad… that feels like something that was already public, so I don’t mind sharing it."

She pushed her cleared plate aside, and Percy tried to do the same, but his plate ended up on the floor. “Damn curse," he muttered, not even bothering to pick it up. He directed his gaze out the window, deciding to watch the city flicker on without him, completely unaware of how spell-bound he was by it’s bright lights and constant liveliness. “Could I read it by myself? That way you didn’t have to read it aloud." She knew she was being pushy, but Annabeth didn’t know when to stop when she was curious about something. “I just… I want to know some things."

He looked a little puzzled when he asked, “What do you mean?"

She sighed, scratching her collarbone. “I just want to know what you write about," Annabeth half-lied. “I want to see inside the mysterious world of Percy Jackson."

"I’ve told you what I write about," he said, sounding contemplative. He gave her a once-over, narrowing his eyes a little before he chuckled. “You’re not telling me something."

She immediately took the defensive side. “How would you know?"

"Because," Percy started, “you keep itching random parts of your body; your eyebrows, your hands, your collarbones. You’re nervous. You don’t have a reason to _be_  nervous, unless you did something wrong."

"So, you’re a psychologist now?"

He shook his head, pushing a pea across his plate. “Just with you."

"Because you know me oh-so-well," she said sarcastically. “We just met like what, two weeks ago?"

"Today is our twelfth day knowing each other," Percy said simply. “Annabeth Chase, you know as much as I do that not everyone likes sharing every detail." She sighed in frustration, rubbing her temples. “Just tell me what’s up."

"I’m not really asking  _what_  you write about," she admitted, keeping her eyes on the cheap tablecloth. “I’m just… wondering maybe  _who_  you write about."

There was a small silence, in which Percy cocked his head to the side and stared at Annabeth with the most adoring look. " _Oh_ ," he said in realization. “Yeah, yeah, I write about you."

She kept looking down at the table and Percy was seriously concerned by how much he wanted to kiss her. “Okay."

"Okay," he repeated, hesitating three times before kicking her foot under the table. “You could have just asked me."

"It’s weird," Annabeth disagreed. Percy saw that her cheeks were tinted red, and he felt like he was in high school. She made him feel young in that way, where he felt like he was just trying to get the prettiest girl in school again. It was fun and frustrating all the same, because Annabeth  _was_  the prettiest girl in school, but she was also the hardest to get.

He considered several replies before deciding on, “Time to go."

She seemed relieved to drop the topic, which Percy thought was interesting seeing as she had been the one to bring it up. “Where are we going?"

"The beach," he said simply, shooting her a troublemaker smile. “Where else?"

"It’s a Wednesday night," Annabeth deadpanned. “Who’s going to be there?"

 _Hopefully my friends_ , Percy thought. He hadn’t been to their monthly beach bonfires in two months, having been working on each day. They always met on the 15th of every month, just to make sure they never lost the friendship they’d had in high school. “You’ll have to wait and see."

"Am I going to like it? Or them?" she asked. Annabeth knew she wasn’t the most charming of people, and she’d always had bad luck meeting people and making them like her.

"I hope so," was the only thing Percy said on the matter, regardless of Annabeth’s endless pestering and, eventually, silent treatment.

**xxxxx**

"Stay here," Percy ordered Annabeth. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave her a pleading look before jogging further down the beach, just on the other side of the pile of giant rocks. With a bit of relief, he saw the same set-up he’d seen for three years: a cooler, ten or so chairs, a pile of blankets and, of course, a fire pit in the middle.

"Percy!" someone shouted at the top of their lungs. He recognized the voice as Nico’s, and judging by the slurred word, it was safe to say that he had been drinking. “‘S been _for_ ever since you’ve came to a fire!"

"I know," Percy answered, laughing at Nico’s partially inebriated state. A few others called out their hello’s, and he shook hands or exchanged hugs with each of them. “Listen, guys… I brought someone."

Connor Stoll, one out of the two tricksters of the group, leaned to the left and said, “Is she blonde?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Generally looks pretty pissed off?"

"Not really. I mean, I  _guess_ —"

"No I don’t," a voice said indignantly. Percy jumped and turned around to face Annabeth who was glaring up at him.

"You do right now," he managed. “Why didn’t you stay?"

"I’m not a dog," Annabeth said defiantly, deciding to take a seat in the sand rather than a chair.

"But—"

"What’s your name?" Nico asked loudly. “Are you that girl Percy  _lov_ —"

"Nico’s a little drunk at the moment!" Percy shouted over him. “A lot drunk."

"Right," Annabeth said, sending him a sarcastic look.

"So… Guys. This is Annabeth," he said, gesturing to his blonde companion. “That’s Katie, Travis, Connor, Grover, Nico and Silena." Percy pointed to each person induvidually, and she tried to memorize the names to faces. Katie looked like Natalie Portman. Travis and Connor looked the same. Grover was wearing a beanie. Nico was wearing a lot of black. Silena was…  _pink_. Annabeth could remember that.

"Hey," Annabeth said finally, waving to them all. “I’m Percy’s friend."

The very pink girl, Silena, hummed to herself. Annabeth wasn’t sure if she liked the look in her eyes, but Silena smiled at her. “Nice to meet you. How’d you find this loser?" She winked at Percy as if they were sharing an inside joke and he laughed, deciding to sit down next to Annabeth in the sand.

"Well?" Percy prompted, raising an eyebrow at her. “Do you want to tell the story?" The grey-eyed girl thought it was maybe a little unfair, the way the fire reflected itself in Percy’s eyes, making them look darker and more intense and completely breathtaking.

"Sure," she agreed, if only to convince herself to look away from Percy. “So… One morning I was late to work."

"And I was, too," Percy interjected.

Annabeth sighed loudly. “I thought  _I_  was the one telling the story." He swayed to bump her shoulder as a queue to ‘go ahead and tell it.’ “Anyways, so we were both stuck in traffic, next to each other. He threw paper balls at my car and, long story short, I met this loser."

"Interesting," Silena commented, leaning back in her seat. “Very interesting."

"Right," Annabeth said, shifting her hands and accidentally dropping one over Percy’s. “Oh…" she mumbled, after a moment. “Uh, sorry." When she glanced up to meet his eyes, all she caught was the tail end of a smile, one of his indecipherable grins.

"Don’t worry about it," he told her. “So, around what time did Nico start drinking?"

"Around forty minutes ago," Katie informed him. “But, you know he’s never held his alcohol well."

"Yeah," Percy agreed with a laugh. “Remember that one time he—?"

"Stop talking about me like I’m not here!" Nico yelled, giving him a petulant look. “I’ll tell Annabeth about the thing."

"About what thing?" the green-eyed man asked, raising an eyebrow. He spared a glance at Annabeth, who looked just about as interested as he did.

"About how you said that you like her!" Nico sang, sounding oddly close to a kindergartner. “You have a crush on Annabe— _ouch!"_

At a suprising speed, Percy had taken off his jacket and sharply threw it at the (illegally) drunken man. “I did not!"

"Whatever!"

"Yeah, whatever," Silena agreed.

Percy laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus, you guys. The first time I actually bring someone to one of these things…" He looked at Annabeth. “I’m sorry about them."

She gave him a once-over, honestly wondering how true Nico’s statement had been. I mean, twelve days wasn’t much, but they had been hanging out a lot. Percy wasn’t _un_ attractive by any means; in fact, she would definitely classify him in the ‘sinfully gorgeous’ category. He wrote about her, but she didn’t know what. Annabeth decided that she really, really wanted to know. “It’s fine," she assured him, belatedly.

Travis—or maybe Connor, Annabeth wasn’t sure—started singing a song obnoxiously, stealing away her chance to ask Percy about what Nico had said. Katie rolled her eyes and kicked the leg of the singing man’s chair, grumbling a, “Shut up, Stoll," and taking a sip of her tea.

"Which one’s which?" Annabeth whispered to Percy. Her curiousity was spiked again just as it had been at the diner, and she couldn’t risk and inch of uncomfortability between herself and Percy if she planned on finding out the truth. Annabeth was all about tactic, and she knew the only way he would tell her is if he trusted her.

"The one in the blue is Connor," Percy said back, keeping his voice low. He chuckled. “The one on the ground is Travis."

"Twins?"

"Brothers," he corrected. “But they look so much alike, most people assume they’re twins. Silena was one of my best friends in high school, just so you know."

"Right," Annabeth answered. “The wink had me thinking maybe she had a thing for you."

"Sizing up the competition?" Percy questioned with a laugh. She shot him a sarcastic look, and he bumped her shoulder again. “You’re my soul mate. The one and only. No competition there, Anna _be_."

"You two look mighty cozy," Travis said across the bonfire. “Should I be worried that you’re going to take my baby Percy away from me?"

"You have a girlfriend," Katie deadpanned, not even sparing Travis a look.

"We broke up, actually," he told her, raising his cheap beer skyward. “It’s about damn time, too."

"I’ll say," Connor muttered. “She was always so… clingy." Katie’s nose scrunched up at that comment, her expression holding a distinct  _I told you so_  look, and Annabeth cocked her head to the side. Nico was busy alternating between a canned beer and a glass of water, but he wasn’t keeping a very good balance. Four sips of beer here, one sip of water there.

"You want a drink?" Percy asked. Annabeth’s turned to look at him, but he was standing up straight and looking down at her. “Don’t feel bad if you don’t want a beer, I usually don’t drink at these either."

She nodded. “A soda is fine. Any kind."

He bowed and said, “Your wish is my command," before making his way over to the cooler. While he searched through the ice, someone hit his shoulder. “Ouch," Percy said blankly, turning to see his abuser. “Oh, hey Grover."

"So," Percy’s high-school best friend started, “Annabeth, huh?"

Percy rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure."

"You like her, don’t you?" Grover asked.

"Undetermined, G-man," the green-eyed man answered. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do." He finally plucked a second Coke out, shaking his now frozen hand a little.

"Maybe you should find out soon," Grover suggested. “She gives you this look."

Percy tried to secretly spare Annabeth a glance, but she was staring right at him with narrowed eyes. “What look?"

"Like  _the_  look."

"Grover, stop being so vague," Percy ordered. “What are you talking about?" His heart was beating a little faster, and he wasn’t positive why. It was somewhere between anxiety and ‘Annabeth is staring at me intently’.

"You know I’m good with reading emotions," Grover started. Before he even finished the word ‘emotions,’ Percy was already walking away. He was  _not_  about to get the love talk from Grover again, just to watch him play Dr. Love with Silena like he did so many times in high school. It wasn’t worth screwing things up with Annabeth.

"One Coke for my soul mate," Percy said, upon his return to their spot in the sand.

"Big spender," Annabeth replied sarcastically, accepting the drink.

"Excuse you," he said, affronted. “I’ll have you know that I may now lose my hand."

"Why’s that?"

"Because it’s really extremely cold, and the fact that I’m not wearing my jacket anymore doesn’t help. I’m sure I’ll have hypothermia soon," he contemplated.

"Oh, please," Annabeth dismissed. “It’s not  _that_  cold."

Percy placed his hand on the back of her neck. She jumped and made an indignant noise, elbowing him in the side as he laughed hysterically. “Oh, it’s not  _that_  cold, Chase?"

"Shut up," she grumbled, rubbing the nape of her neck in order to warm it up. “It’s still not cold enough to the point that you’d reach hypothermia. Plus, it’s your  _core_ temperature. Not just one limb of your body."

She stared at the embers of the fire, and Percy watched her expression soften from irritated to calm. He thought it was better than watching the sun rise. “Know it all," he teased, smiling fondly.

"Illiterate idiot," Annabeth answered, without missing a beat. He laughed, leaning back on his elbows and letting the breeze from the ocean lift his hair in a million directions.

Silena observed them out of her peripherals. She wasn’t dumb. She’d been by Percy’s side for almost every high school heartbreak, and she knew the look he got in his eyes. Apparently, Grover noticed how distracted she was as they carried on a conversation about where a pregnant girl in their grade was now. “Yeah, and there was a Prada bag for ten dollars—"

Silena gasped loudly focusing her full attention on Grover. “Where?"

He smiled. “Thinking the same thing about Percy and his new crusade?"

"He seems serious, though," Silena mentioned, cocking her head to the side and sparing them another quick look. “Like… I don’t think it’s like Rachel or Calypso."

"You’re the one who’s all about love," Grover told her, holding up his hands. “I believe you." They both redirected their eyes to Percy and Annabeth, who were somehow sitting an inch or two closer as Percy leaned back on his elbows. Annabeth said something and he laughed, his whole face lighting up with a look that could only be described as pure admiration as he looked at Annabeth.

"Come on," Percy said, rolling up his jeans and toeing off his shoes. Annabeth blinked at his abruptness, and he gestured for her to hurry up. She copied his actions, lining up her Converse and following him as he started walking down to the water.

"Where are you two going?" the girl, Silena, asked.

"I actually don’t know," Annabeth answered simply, before walking past her to catch up with Percy. She didn’t mean to be rude, honestly, but she’d always hated when people looked like they knew more than she did. And Silena gave her this look that said, ‘oh, I know what’s coming and I can’t wait.’ It unnerved her.

She finally stopped at the edge of the surf, next to Percy. He had his eyes closed, almost as if he were soaking in the atmosphere of the ocean. Annabeth knew he held a certain spite for it, seeing as he was still bitter towards his dad, but she knew it was _his_  place. In fact, she was almost sure that if he opened his eyes right now, his eyes would be the exact same color as the water kissing her toes. She wouldn’t be suprised if Percy bled salt-water.

"You wanted to know what I write about you," he mentioned, after a while. “It’s nice things."

"That’s good," Annabeth acknowledged, admiring the freckles along his jaw. They were odd, but she’d always liked odd things.

"I was thinking that…  _maybe_ ," Percy began, “you could write something for me."

"Oh… I’m not a very good writer—"

"I know," he interrupted gently. “I know what I want you to write; I’ve been repeating it in my mind for the past twenty minutes, really. I just want it to be written, in your hand. And you want to know what kind of things I write about you, so…" Percy breathed out, and Annabeth caught a bit of nervousness in the single breath. “Would you?"

"Of course," Annabeth agreed, without hesitation. “I just need a pen and your notebook." He reached into his pocket and extracted both items, faltering once before placing the notebook in her hand. It was the first time he’d ever let anyone besides himself hold one of his books full of his personal thoughts, and it was more than a little weird. He felt oddly vulnerable, like the books were his one thing that kept him sane, and he was handing the liability over to someone else.

Percy walked a little further up the beach and laid in the sand. “Use my back as a desk of sorts. Write pretty," he enjoined. “And, um… yeah."

Annabeth laid down so that she was perpendicular to him, using his spine as a desk just like he asked. “Go for it," she prompted.

"This is going to sound so weird," Percy admitted. “Saying it out loud. Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s awful and very Lifetime-movie-ish."

Annabeth bit back a smile. “Then stop thinking, loser."

 _It’s a bit difficult_ , Percy wanted to answer. This was probably the closest physical contact they’d had, save a few hugs. The warmth of her arms was burning through his shirt and imprinting itself into his skin, and he knew he’d never be able to forget.

"I like nights like these," Percy started softly, closing his eyes. Annabeth started writing the words, tapping his upper back twice when she was done. It easily became a system, without saying anything. “I like nights like these, where everything is showered in silvery moonlight." He halted before saying, “Night’s like these make her eyes even more beautiful," in the softest tone she’d ever heard him speak in. She inhaled a shaky breath, and Annabeth wasn’t sure why the moment felt so intense to her. Hearing this side of Percy, taking these thoughts and writing them down for him, it felt like she was finally understanding. “They’re already grey," he continued, pausing in interavals for her to write, “light and calculating enough to make me lose my breath. The world looks better like this, highlights of silver and lowlights of shadows. The stars help the moon in giving the night a luminary. Out of all of them, she shines the brightest. Yes, the world looks better at nightfall, with her eyes alight and fitting in easily with the constellations in the sky. She’s not perfect, god knows that no one can be, but with the dark of the night casting shadows across her face and her eyes holding the moonlight, I’d say she’s damn near close."

Annabeth felt her eyes sting, which was weird, because she  _never_  cried. Especially in front of people. “Sign your name," Percy commanded gently, after a moment. She carefully scribed her name at the end of the page. And then, silence. He tried not to freak out about the fact that he was sharing something so awfully personal with someone, and Annabeth tried not to cry over Percy’s words. It was by far the nicest thing anyone had ever thought of her, and she couldn’t help but read it over and over. “That’s the sort of things I write about you," he said after a few minutes. “I’m sorry."

"Don’t be," Annabeth said. “Really, don’t. It’s sweet." Percy knew he was blushing a little, and he cursed the fact that he didn’t get the ‘no-blushing’ gene. The quiet that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but he felt a barrier. He wasn’t positive what it was or where it’d came from, but he felt it. “How are you single again?"

He barked out a laugh unexpectedly, covering his mouth and laughing lightly. “Hell if I know," Percy jested. “I think I’m pretty damn hot."

It was Annabeth’s turn to laugh. “Narcissist."

"More like a realist," he countered, smirk in place. “Come on, Annabeth. You know your soul mate is pretty sexy."

"Better than some," she allowed, making Percy grin into the crook of his elbow at her stubborness. “Maybe exceptionally better."

"Yeah, yeah," he drawled. “You’re pretty too."

"Percy!" someone shouted from further up the beach.

"Yeah?" he called back, moving to stand up and accidentally causing Annabeth to fall face first into the sand. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry." He started laughing as he helped her up though, brushing sand off her cheeks.

"Are you guys alright?"

"No, we got eaten by a shark!" he shouted, rolling his eyes. “No privacy, I tell you."

"We wanted privacy?" Annabeth questioned.

"Did we?" Percy shot back.

"Don’t answer my question with a question," she grumbled. He shot her a smile before tipping an imaginary hat at her and making his way up the beach. Annabeth waited for a moment, steeling herself and taking a deep breath before lightly jogging after him.

"You two were gone for a while," Travis said suggestively. “Get sand in a few uncomfortable places?"

"You’re about to get it in your eyes," Annabeth said snarkily. “Is that uncomfortable enough?"

"She’s feisty," Connor commented, raising his glass to Percy. “Good luck with that."

"By the way," Percy said breezily, “we’re soul mates and there is a substantial amount of evidence supporting that fact." He grinned at Annabeth, and she chuckled shaking her head.

"And here we were, plotting ways to get you two together when you were already together!" Silena huffed. “Time well wasted."

"We aren’t together," Percy and Annabeth said in unison.

"Soul mates don’t always have to be romantic," Annabeth continued, sitting in a chair rather than the sand. Percy sat in front of her, deciding he was worthy enough to lean back against her knees. He nodded in agreement to Annabeth’s statement, pulling one knee up to his chest and asking Grover to toss him another Coke.

"Then what were you guys doing down there?" Nico asked as Katie revoked his beer and replaced it with a Capri Sun. He struggled with the straw for a second before finally figuring it out.

"Having sex, obviously," Annabeth said sarcastically, patting Percy’s cheek. “Right, baby?"

He snorted lightly at the pet name. “Sure thing, sweet cheeks. Now, G-Man, what happened to my Coke?"

And they left it at that.

The remainder of the night was spent drinking and laughing and singing stupid songs, but Annabeth could only think that she hadn’t been that happy in a while. Percy kept turning back to face her and say random things or pointless jokes, but it was nice. It was almost like he was letting her know that he wasn’t forgetting about her.

High school stories faded into an impulsive game of truth or dare, which ended in Travis being dunked in freezing water and Silena nearly crying over the sand in her hair. Percy was dared to kiss Annabeth’s feet, which made them laugh for almost ten minutes straight for no apparent reason. Annabeth figured it was a combination of sleep deprivation, and, well, everything’s funnier at midnight when you’re with friends. There was also a small incident in which Percy’s pant leg was on fire, but it was extinguished in a hasty manner.

When Percy dozed off at three AM, she decided it was probably time to get him home before he was  _really_  asleep and she couldn’t wake him up. The group dispersed, each and every one of them giving Annabeth a hug, which made her feel accepted into their crew. Grover helped Annabeth lug Percy to the car, since he was adamant about not fully waking up, and Nico said he’d catch a ride home with one of the others.

By the time they managed to get Percy into the passengar seat, he was mildly awake. He found Annabeth’s keys in his pocket and handed them over, buckling his seatbelt and leaning his seat back. When she settled into the driver’s seat, he reached forward and tapped her shoulder. “Hey, did you have fun?"

She smiled. “Yeah, it was great."

"You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No, really, I had fun. It was the most fun I’ve had in a whlie, actually," she confessed. He smiled sleepily at her, and Annabeth had a small girly moment in which her mind screamed,  _‘Jesus Christ, sleepy boys are cute.’_

"I’m glad you had fun," he told her as she started her car. “They love you, you know. You fit right in."

Annabeth smiled softly with the feeling of acceptance. “Do they really think we had sex?"

Percy snorted. “Probably. I don’t really care though, since they think I have sex with everyone. I don’t blink when they make jokes about it anymore."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have sex with everyone," Annabeth clarified. She braced herself for the answer and prayed that Percy wasn’t some disease-ridden playboy.

"Not at all. Just with one girl, and I’d been dating her for three years," he confided.

"So they ‘high school heartthrob’ vibe I get from you is inaccurate?" she inquired.

Annabeth could almost hear Percy smile when he replied, “I was still the heartthrob. I just wasn’t one to sleep around, you know? If that’s all you did in high school, I honestly don’t know what to say to you. I didn’t even have time to read books, much less have sex 24/7."

"Ditto," Annabeth agreed. “Those who do it are quite talented." Percy hummed, showing his sleepy acknowledgement of her statement. “Are you staying with me, or…?"

"I didn’t want to impose," Percy divulged, “but I don’t really have anywhere else to go at the moment."

"It’s perfectly fine," she assured him. “The Hotel A La Chase is at your service."

"Sounds fancy," Percy teased. He paused for a moment before asking, “How… how long do you think it takes to fall in love?" Annabeth shot him a confused look in vain, since his eyes were closed. “I mean… do you think it can just  _happen_? Or does it take a certain amount of time?"

She was quiet, because she wasn’t stupid. Annabeth was pretty sure it wasn’t just another one of his philosophical questions. “Well, I’ve heard of love at first sight—"

"I don’t want to hear about what you’ve heard," he interjected. “I want to know what _you_  think."

Annabeth bit her lip and stared at the traffic light, waiting for a green signal. She thought about that first day in traffic and all the other coincidences along the way. She thought about Percy, and the way he saw her and wrote her. She considered the way he was kind-hearted despite all; philosophical yet clueless, and most of the time, confused. And she thought, maybe, love didn’t take much time at all. “I think it depends," Annabeth decided, tapping her index fingers on the steering wheel. “It depends on the people involved and fate intervening and the things in between."

Percy sighed loudly, maybe out of irritation, maybe out of relief. He chuckled nervously, then said, “And… us?"

Annabeth’s heart stopped beating for a moment and she accelerated when the traffic light allowed her to. “I think we’re pretty damn close," she told him softly, copying the words she’d scrawled within his notebook.

He laughed, albeit a bit breathlessly, and he wished he would have chosen to have this conversation when he wasn’t so tired. “Right. Yeah."

"You really think so?"

Percy leaned his seat forward and hesitantly reached out for her hand, holding it as though it were both familiar and completely foreign. “I don’t know, Anna _be_. I’m guessing we’ll find out eventually."

And when they finally got to Annabeth’s house, and Percy held her hand all the way to the door, she couldn’t help but hope they would be finding out sooner as opposed to later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's a bit superstitious and Annabeth's a little too busy trying to stay busy. Fate's not always cruel.

Annabeth couldn’t sleep. She refused to completely acknowledge why, but she knew. It was easy to tell; with the way every time her eyes managed to flicker shut, there were visions of Percy laughing, him writing, him reading, him talking. Her mind was wide awake, absorbing everything around her; the blue of her curtains, the grey of her bedsheets, Percy’s snores that she could hear even in her bedroom, the air conditioning running. Her mind was thinking about everything else to avoid what she really needed to consider.

Annabeth had never been in love. All throughout middle school and high school, she was labeled  _teacher’s pet_  and  _nerd_  while she read for fun and transcended all others to become valedictorian. She had friends, sure, but she hardly ever spent time with them outside of cramped classrooms and even more crowded hallways. Thalia had been the one friend who invited herself over and didn’t take Annabeth’s feeble " _I’m studying_ " as a reason not to visit her. Thalia, above all, had been her best friend in high school, and today. Now that Annabeth was facing the point in which love was an option, she wasn’t sure what to think. If she’d never been in love before, how was she supposed to know that she was now? Honestly, she didn’t know how she was feeling. But Percy, with bright eyes and even brighter smiles, with impulsive ideas and gorgeous scribbled phrases, had managed to make his way over all of the obstacles she had set up.

Annabeth didn’t just put up  _walls_. Annabeth put up walls surrounded by a moat full of alligators and piranhas, surrounded by yet another wall, poison ivy, a whole army and maybe three or so other walls. But almost as easily as he showed affection, Percy walked right on through, unharmed, the walls falling down before him and the army providing him with a walkway. It was almost like they’d known he was coming, and maybe they smiled and him and waved as he walked past, clapping him on the back and hollering a “good to see you!"

Annabeth didn’t know what love felt like. She’d never felt rushes of affection for the one person you truly cared about. She’d never had shaking hands and quivering breaths and tears of joy when the other reciprocated. She watched it in the movies, saw the way people fell so simply and easily, sliding right into love as though it were a cozy sweater they wore on Sunday mornings. By herself, she honestly had no clue what that was like. The closest she had to a cozy sweater was her dad’s itchy graduation pullover. However, she knew that Percy wouldn’t go through the trouble of, well,  _her_  if she didn’t mean something to him. It was reassuring to know that someone out there would gladly go out of their way, just to ensure that they got her. Annabeth wasn’t used to the feeling of being wanted, which left her conflicted.

Her best strategy had always been work, to work away any thoughts and drown herself in paperwork and signatures. But now that her getaway was absent from her life, stolen from her exactly twelve days ago, Annabeth wasn’t sure what to do. She had the pizza place job coming up, thanks to Percy, but she wasn’t worried about later. Annabeth was worried about right now. Staring at her pale, alice blue curtains was getting old.

She pushed her covers away, paced her room quietly, and finally stopped at her bookshelf. A few classics:  _Wuthering Heights_ ,  _Great Expectations_ ,  _To Kill a Mockingbird_. They were all books that she’d read in high school. She had a few old notebooks from school and even a yearbook or two. Annabeth brushed her finger over the spine of her eighth grade yearbook, and pulled it off the shelf.

Looking at people you used to know was weird. Maybe they looked different now, or maybe they looked the same, but Annabeth could only think about how much they’d all changed from the transition of middle to high school. It made her wonder where they were now—pregnant with twins, settled down, traveling, on the streets?—and it made her wonder if anyone was curious where she was at. Was anyone curious about what happened to the brainiac that always unintentionally one-upped everyone else?

 _Fresh air_ , she decided.  _Fresh air, and then maybe I can get to sleep_.

Resolutely, she shoved the yearbook back on the shelf and slipped her Converse on, tiptoeing through the living room and hoping she didn’t wake Percy up. She walked past him, the floorboards creeking once, but ultimately made it out without him coming to consciousness.

She sat on the steps, breathing in the air that maybe wasn’t so fresh, pulling her knees up to her chest and looking at the house directly in front of hers. It looked pristine on the outside, with light pink curtains over the windows and a freshly mown lawn. Offhandedly, she noted that she should seriously get hers done, too, but as a woman slipped out the front door, wiping her eyes, a thought hit Annabeth: things weren’t always how they seemed. The perfect house before her could hold broken people with bad luck and too much suffering. She’d always heard that broken people tried to overcompensate, looking better and acting nicer for the sake of others. Truly broken people didn’t want others to go through what they were.

The woman got into her car, backing out of the drive and continued down the road. The scene made her think of Percy, his niceness and how often he smiled, and it made Annabeth wonder what else was going on in the world of Percy Jackson. She knew he was genuinely happy, it was beyond obvious, but like this issue with his father, she also knew he had more to say. Annabeth couldn’t wait for when he finally told her everything, laid it out line by line and let her know who her soul mate was.

To be fair, she hadn’t told him that much about herself, but there wasn’t much to say. Her mother and her father never stopped working. How they’d managed to find the time to have her, Annabeth would never know. She grew up normal. She went to school. She was teased for being a nerd, but it was more of a compliment towards her knowledge, at least in Annabeth’s opinion. She started college while still in high school, ended up graduating with her AA degree, and took more classes after. Her life had never had any highs or extreme lows.

But Percy’s eyes had stories to tell and his hands had battle scars from wars she wanted to hear about. In short, he was different, and that was enough to keep her interested. She’d always liked odd things.

The door of the house before her opened again, showing a man who was probably in his mid-forties. Annabeth wasn’t phenomenal at reading expressions, but she recognized regret plain and clear. She watched him glance around before reentering his house, and she hoped he went to go find a phone and call the woman who drove away. Annabeth had grown up thinking shame and regret were bad things, but the scene before her let her know that it was okay to do things wrong. It was okay to mess up, and maybe you’d have to build from the bottom up and try all over again. Maybe things would be the same, maybe they’d be different, but in the end, all that mattered was that things were okay. In the end, all that mattered was that you had someone or something to keep you going. You’d get frustrated sometimes. You’d have to go for a drive and simmer down. But you’d always go back to the object or person that held the spot as your bane of existence.

Fondly, she rolled her eyes at all of her wandering, philosophical thoughts. It was evidence that she’d been around Percy too much. Feeling much better, Annabeth stood up and opened the door, making it past the sleeping man in near silence. She fell asleep quickly, promising herself that she’d always remember: things or people aren’t always how they seem.

**xxxxx**

Percy woke up to a colorful selection of curses. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a good minute or two, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes before he decided to go see why his blonde companion felt the need for vulgar language.

Upon his entry to the kitchen, he saw Annabeth running water over her fingertips and scowling at the coffee pot. “What’d you do?"

She jumped, hitting her elbow on the counter and hissing in pain. “I think I’ve inherited your stupid curse."

Percy smiled, moving to stand by her side. He examined her hand, pushing the running water away. “If you had my curse, you wouldn’t have just burnt your hand. You would have severed a finger or something."

"That bad?"

"Not so much anymore. I think it’s mostly wearing off." He glanced at the time. “Why are you up so late?"

"It’s eleven o’clock," Annabeth argued. “That’s not ‘late.’"

"For you it is," Percy pointed out, “which means you didn’t sleep well."

She scowled, returning to her task of pouring coffee. “I slept fine. We just did a lot yesterday, so I was pretty tired." She gave him an earnest look as she handed him a cup of coffee, hoping to ward away the worry in his eyes. “Honestly, don’t give me that look. Yesterday was a long day and you know it." This seemed to suffice, the concern slowly melting from his expression as he took a sip of his coffee. It was slightly bitter, but it only made Percy smile. He couldn’t wait until she was formulating him coffee every morning until she finally got it perfect.

"I probably need to stop by Nico’s today," he said. “He has some of my clothes there."

"Oh." Percy could swear that he read some disappointment in Annabeth’s expression, but he didn’t want to irritate her by asking. “Do you need a ride?"

"Yeah, my car’s still at work." He cocked his head to the side. “Why is it at work?"

"I picked you up that one day?" she suggested. “When you were freaking out about the curse."

"Ah," Percy said. “Memories."

"That was three days ago," Annabeth said with a laugh. “You act like it was years ago."

He smiled, setting his coffee down and stepping closer to her. “Well, it  _feels_  like it’s been years since I met you, honestly." When Percy leaned in—for a hug? for a kiss?—Annabeth’s heart stuttered. It was short lived, however, since his phone started blaring some song on the radio from the living room. He backed away, sighing in a way that Annabeth could swear sounded pretty annoyed. “Sorry."

"It’s fine," she assured him, though she wasn’t really sure what of. “Just go answer your phone."

"Right." He walked past her, their shoulders and fingertips brushing. After his exit, she took a deep breath and a steadying sip of caffeine, focusing on slowing her heartbeat. It wasn’t fair, she decided, the way he could affect her just by leaning an inch closer. From her place in the kitchen, Annabeth could hear his friendly tone carrying on a brusque conversation.

As he reentered the kitchen, Percy looked both happy and apologetic. “Mr. Argie called me in for work. By the way," he continued, fishing into his pocket, "’ _You know not what you long for the most, but it will find it’s way to you soon_.’ What’s that about? Cheating on me?"

"Definitely," she remarked dryly. “It probably means something like a steady job."

"Ah, ah, ah," Percy said, waggling his finger back and forth. “Analyzing what fate gives you is bad luck. Your lovely lucky numbers are 36, 7, 38 and 37. Lots of thirties. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Probably just warning me that everyday is a day closer to thirty," Annabeth replied, wrinkling her nose. She wasn’t ready to grow old. “Anyways, work on a Thursday morning?" she asked. “That’s weird."

"Apparently we’re preparing some sort of pizza feast for a company outing," he explained with a shrug. “I’m sorry."

"Why do you keep apologizing?" She laughed breezily, squeezing his left shoulder. “We’re fine. You’re allowed to go to work."

"I know," he said. “But—"

"We might want to leave soon if he expects you to get there in a timely manner, especially if you plan on grabbing a change of clothes," Annabeth interrupted.

"Shower," Percy added. “I’ll want a shower."

"That, too." She found the keys and shook them slightly, impatiently waiting for him to chug the rest of his coffee, but ended up laughing as he spilled more than half of it on himself.

As he cleaned his face with the bottom of his shirt, like a toddler, Percy laughed at himself. “God, I am  _so_  attractive. Why am I single, again?" And, well, Annabeth couldn’t really argue with his shirt halfway up and his hair childishly messy.

When she arrived home later, after chauffeuring Percy around for a half-hour, she found herself to be uncharacteristically bored. For the past few days, Annabeth had had a full schedule, Percy occupying nearly every moment of her time. And when he wasn’t around her, she had something to do, something to clean, something to work on.

She guessed this was what it was like when you found the person that completed you. When they were gone, you felt a certain absence, a distinct empty place you know they should be filling. Annabeth flopped down on her couch and watched the ceiling fan spin in circles, much like her head had been for the past few days. She absentmindedly tapped her hands against her stomach. What had she even done before Percy came along?

 _Nothing_ , Annabeth realized. She’d done nothing besides work, sleep and eat. That was it.

As if it sensed her sudden lack of things to do, her phone began vibrating in her back pocket. Starved for some source of entertainment, she answered it without hesitation. “Hello?"

"Hey there, Annabeth Chase," Percy said in his friendly tone. “We’re about to head out for the first line of this mass delivery and Mr. Argie wanted to know something."

"What’s that?"

She heard a distant call of Percy’s name. “He figured you could get a head start on the architecture job. We’ll be gone for a half-hour—or at least I will, some workers are staying behind—so you’ll have some time to get an idea and think about what the best choices are or whatever."

"Right now?"

"Right now." Annabeth started towards the door, pulling her shoes halfway on. “Just tell them who you are when you walk in." She heard a less patient call of his name.

"You better go," she suggested, opening her car door. “The people await."

Percy laughed, and she clearly manifested his expression: bright eyes and full smile as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I better. See you later, Annabeth Chase."

The call ended and she backed out of the driveway, en route to her new job. The fact that Percy had managed to find her a job was already in itself unforgettably nice of him, but this job was practically  _with_  him. She looked at is a some sort of bonus feature on a great movie: you get the best thing, and then some. Which was basically them, in a way. She got a soul mate—while Annabeth had always firmly believed she’d never find the one—and better yet, her soul mate was Percy the good-hearted, honest, nearly perfect guy.

As she arrived at the pizza delivery place, Annabeth noticed two things. For one, their parking lot was entirely too spacious for a place that let you pick up your pizza or brought it to you. Expanding would be easy. And for two, the paint was chipping and the awning tearing, giving it a shoddy appearance, though it had the best pizza as far as Annabeth was concerned. “Paint job," she muttered to herself, “new awning." She opened the door, hearing an awful squeak. “Fix that."

"Hey, are you Annabeth?" a girl from behind the counter called. She seemed preoccupied, filling boxes with breadsticks and marinara sauce.

"I am."

The girl paused in her work, sanding her hands on her apron. She sent Annabeth a sly smile, setting her hands on her hips. “Percy hasn’t stopped bragging about you all morning."

Well,  _that_  made Annabeth smile. “Really? What’s he been saying?"

"Something about how his soul mate is going to change this pizzeria forever," the dark-haired girl said. “What can you do? The boy’s in love."

Annabeth thought about correcting her, but in the end, she simply glanced around the place, weighing the pros and cons of the construction. “This place is actually pretty nice."

The girl scrunched her nose up. “I’ve been working here ever since I started college, and I can testify that it’s seen better days. I’m Bianca, by the way." Annabeth took a moment to examine the familiarity of the girl. She had dark hair and dark eyes, paired with olive skin; freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. “Di Angelo," Bianca added.

"Oh!" Annabeth said in realization. “I was trying to figure out who you looked like!"

"I see you know Nico," Bianca said with a laugh. “People say we look like twins."

"I definitely see the resemblance," she agreed, pulling out her phone to take a few snapshots of the restaurant. “Nico’s a nice kid."

"Last time he called me, he didn’t sound sober, exactly. But, he said that he was with Percy, so I figured he was fine."

Annabeth tried to be nonchalant as she flicked through her images. “You must really trust him, huh?"

"With my life," Bianca said with conviction. “Percy’s a great guy. He’s the reason I scored this job."

"Same here," Annabeth shared. “He got me this remodeling thing, too."

Just as the words left her mouth, Percy jogged in. “Bianca, we need the thing!"

"What thing?" she asked, seeming a bit panicked at his rush.

"The box with all the stuff," he said vaguely, pushing things around behind the counter. “With the tablecloths and the salt and pepper and—"

"Why didn’t you say so?" Bianca ducked underneath the counter and handed him a box. He sighed in relief, calling her a lifesaver and finally noticing Annabeth’s presence.

"Hi, Annabeth Chase," he said quickly, brushing past her. “Bye, Annabeth Chase." He was almost out the door before he paused, setting the box down on the ground and giving her a quick hug.

"Good luck," she told him, though she wasn’t really sure what for. The statement just seemed to fit.

Percy laughed, kissing her cheek softly and unexpectedly. “Since when have I had that?" Annabeth smiled after him as he scooped the box up again, stowing it in the backseat of his car before he drove off again.

"Someone’s blushing," Bianca teased, and the blonde felt a friendship coming on as she laughed, probably blushing even more.

Later that night, Annabeth was working on a rough draft of plans. She’d had to dig some proper paper out of the top of her closet, but she had found it. Having sketched out several prints before the one she was working on, Annabeth was making sure she allowed Mr. Argie with several options. Just as she decided to give her cramping hand a break, someone knocked on her front door.

She was about to get up and open it, but Percy strolled into her kitchen. He smiled sheepishly. “I sort of walked in without knocking, but I went back and knocked on the door because I felt bad."

Annabeth smiled, pushing all of her plans, rulers, and pencils to one side of the table. “You idiot."

"On the bright side," he said, sliding a pizza onto the table. “I hope you’re hungry. I made this for you out of the kindness of my heart." She opened the pizza box, finding a note taped to the top, just like last time.

“‘I know there isn’t mushroom left, but I hope you still have a place in your heart for me,’" Annabeth read, scrunching up her nose. “Oh, god. Get out of my house."

Percy laughed freely, sitting in the seat next to her. “It was a time-pressure situation," he said. “It was either that, or ‘olive you.’"

"Glad you chose mushrooms," she said, picking up a slice. “I don’t like olives."

He smiled to himself, glancing across the table. “You’re already working on it?"

"I thought that was the point of me dropping by today?"

Percy shrugged. “Ol’ Argie just thought you’d want to take a look around. I doubt he thought that you would get started this early." He smiled at her as she picked a mushroom off of a slice. “Overachiever."

"Slacker," Annabeth countered.

"Excuse me," he digressed. “I was at a luncheon all day, and I didn’t even get to eat. Congratulate me on my self-control."

"Congratulations on smelling like pizza grease," she said simply, chuckling when he kicked her foot under the table.

"I’m showering."

"Good idea. Your bag is in my room, though," Annabeth told him.

He nodded at her, squeezing her shoulder as he walked past her. “You should catch some sleep, by the way. It’s late."

"It’s eleven."

"And you’ve been working since way early," Percy told her. “Go to sleep." He stared at her until she relented, giving him an affirmative answer. “Night, Annabeth Chase."

She paused before placing her hand over his where it rested on her shoulder. “Yeah, night."

"See you tomorrow?"

"No," she deadpanned. “Absolutely not."

Percy smiled, heading off down the hall to retrieve his bag and hopefully improve his hygiene.

Annabeth organized her supplies on the table, cracking her neck and her knuckles. Once she started on a project, it was nearly impossible to extract her from the work mindset, but here was Percy, having done it with a few words and a large pizza.

She decided he was magical in that way, able to alter people’s moods for the better, just like music. He could sympathize, he could be infuriating, he could make you feel like maybe you weren’t the only one. But in the end, he became your favorite song, the one that ended up meaning everything to you. And, for Annabeth, it was the only song she wanted to hear for the rest of her life.

_**xxxxx** _

"Percy," she repeated for maybe the, oh, thirtieth time.

"What?" he mumbled, burying his face deeper in the couch. “What do you want?" Annabeth shook his shoulder, her patience wearing thin. He batted her hand away, pulling the comforter tighter around himself until he resembled a cocooning caterpillar. “‘M not waking up."

"It’s 12:32 in the afternoon," she informed him, sitting on the edge of the couch and attempting to pull the blanket off him. He scowled, his eyes not opening the slightest, and Annabeth sighed in annoyance. “Percy."

"Annabeth Chase."

"I have to go!"

"Where?" he asked, finally looking at her. He blinked at the sudden light that invaded his sleepy eyes.

"I have errands," she told him. “You can either stay here and sleep or go with me." Percy glared at her for maybe a full minute. “Make a decision."

"I’m tired but I don’t want to be without you," he groaned, covering his face. “I hate ultimatums."

"Stop being a drama queen and put on some decent clothes," she enjoined, deciding to address the fact that Percy, in all his glory, was shirtless in her living room. He sighed in annoyance and peeked up at her through his hands. “Go on. It’s after noon. You need to get up."

"Let me be lazy, Annabeth Chase! I’m starting to rethink this whole soul mate thing," he said, standing up anyways. “My soul mate would surely be lazier."

"Not if we’re supposed to ‘complete’ each other or what have you," she disagreed, pushing him down the hall by his upper back. “You’re the lazy one, I’m the early bird. You’re the irresponsible one, I’m the one that keeps everything together. I have control issues and you like going along with everyone else. It works, okay?"

Percy stopped her from pushing him any further when they reached her bedroom. “You know, Annabeth Chase, I never thought you would be the one convincing  _me_  that we’re soul mates."

She looked down at her feet, pushing her bangs behind her ear and messing with the hem of her shirt. Percy thought maybe he was blessed with a goddess among women. “Just get ready."

"Your wish is my command," he told her.

She glared, which made him smile, for whatever reason. “In that case, feel free to shut up."

**xxxxx**

Annabeth’s ‘errands’ were more like ‘what housewives do on weekdays in order to feel like they’re accomplishing something.’ First, they stopped by the post office, where there was no mail. Second, they went to the biggest grocery store in town, simply to pick up two-liters (which she had three of already). Third, she dragged Percy to the mall so that she could buy a new wallet. She  _insisted_  that hers was broken, but he couldn’t seem to find the fault in it. And fourth, they stopped by Thalia’s snowball truck to chat for a few minutes.

By the time Annabeth spoke the words, “Okay, now we just have to…" Percy was beyond done.

"No," he said simply, stopping in his tracks, sliding a little bit in the sand.

"No?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. He took a step closer, probably meaning to intimidate her, but instead he ended up looking a little nervous and a lot embarrassed.

"We’re doing busy work," Percy told her.

"It’s called errands."

"No, errands are doing things you  _need_  to do. You’re just doing this because you have nothing better to do." Annabeth scowled up at him and he gave her a blank stare.

"These are necessary," she argued.

"Yeah, right, and—" Percy paused midsentence, cocking his head to the side. She was already reaching for a pen, which she had to have somewhere deep in her purse, but he stepped past her and collapsed on a bench.

She handed him a blue pen, and Percy sighed, opening his notebook. Usually, he did it frantically and with purpose, but at this moment, he seemed more discursive. He started writing, not even bothering to lean away from Annabeth as she read over his shoulder.

 _I wish she knew how to slow down_ , he wrote simply, propping his notebook against his knee.  _She misses the beauty in nearly everything—especially herself—simply because she refuses to take a breath and look around her. If she stopped for just a moment, she would see the way the skies are cloudless and the ocean an ideal blue. She would see the way I keep trying to take hold of her hand, but she’s always three steps ahead, making me miss. She’s the ‘go go go’ type, but if she ever listened to me, she would start to see the simple things and the way they make the more complex things even more beautiful._

He skipped a few lines, biting back a smile when Annabeth leaned on his shoulder.

 _Our business is unfinished, and I know that’s why she rushes about. Maybe unconsciously, maybe on purpose, but she knows there’s still more to say. And I know she’s scared to say it, or hear what I might have to say about the color of her eyes or the way they enchant me. I want to tell her not to worry, not to be scared, but how is one supposed to fall in love simply? Love is built on the foundation of being worried, and having someone comfort you. It’s built on being scared, and having someone save you. Her problem, though, is that she doesn’t wish to be saved. If she’d give it a chance—give_ me _a chance—she would realize that giving it a rest is all she needs to do._

Resolutely, Percy clicked the pen and pocketed it, handing his notebook over to Annabeth so that she could reread it. He leaned against the bench and enjoyed the few minutes he wouldn’t be on his feet, relishing the way the sun warmed him up just to the right temperature. Or maybe that was Annabeth, but Percy couldn’t be sure.

"You really think all this?" she questioned.

"Of course," Percy said. “Why wouldn’t I?"

"You’ve really been trying to hold my hand?"

He sat upright and sanded his hands on his jeans. “Of course," he repeated. “Why wouldn’t I?" Annabeth handed back his notebook, and he flipped it closed, briefly noting that he needed to buy a new one. Ever since he’d met her, Percy had been writing twice as much—sparks of inspiration anywhere and everywhere—and he’d almost finished off the 50 page notebook he’d bought just a month ago. They typically took him anywhere from three to five months.

He expected her to get up, brush off everything he’d written, and take it upon herself to drag him to yet another mindless task. But what she did next was the furthest thing from what he thought she would do.

Annabeth, without a smidgen of hesitation, reached over and took his hand in hers, leaning on his shoulder. “It’s nice out today," she said simply. He intertwined their hands slowly, giving her more than enough time to stop him, but she seemed to move closer to him more than anything. “You’re right."

"Of course," he said, smiling down at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?"

**xxxxx**

It was three A.M. and Annabeth couldn’t sleep again. For the past week, her schedule had been: hang out with Percy, become exhausted, go home, lay in bed, and not sleep. She’d started going outside nearly every night, enjoying the way that Los Angeles was fairly cool without the sun beating down on her back, and staring at her surroundings. Before Percy, she’d never spared them a glance. She had never noticed the small carving in the tree just at the edge of her property, or the way she could sometimes hear laughter carrying out from the houses surrounding her. It made her wonder if they ever heard her and Percy half-shouting, half-breaking down in laughter as they often did.

Percy’s apartment would be ready to go the next day. He would be able to walk right out of her front door and back into his apartment, rebuild his place little by little and forget about her if he wanted to. And while he swore that he didn’t, Annabeth couldn’t help the creeping paranoia that had her biting her lips and tossing worriedly in her bed.

Accidentally, she’d gotten attached.

Accidentally, she’d fallen a little bit in love.

The thought made her stomach drop as it occurred to her. Annabeth flinched upright and got out of her bed hurriedly, pulling on the closest jacket she could find and padding out to the front door. As always, she heard Percy’s normal snores, but as a floorboard creaked beneath her left foot, they stuttered for a second. She could hear him moving around on the couch, shuffling his position and maybe stretching out a kinked limb. He eventually fell silent again, and she continued towards the door.

"Annabeth?"

She pursed her lips tightly, crossing her arms and turned towards him. “Yeah?"

"Where are you going?" Percy questioned, his voice rough from sleep and the remains of tiredness.

"Just outside for some air," she said simply. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry."

His brow furrowed, obviously in worry, as he stood up. “I’ll come with you," he offered, stretching his arms and scratching his face. Since he hadn’t been at his apartment, Percy had yet to shave, leaving him an unfair amount of stubble lining his jaw. She thought about going to brush her teeth, weirdly enough. “Is that… okay?" He seemed a bit hesitant and more alert, but his messy hair had her.

"Of course you can." He stumbled, tripping over the rug twice before laughing in disbelief. “I’m guessing the curse isn’t gone yet?" she questioned as they stepped outside. He gave her a helpless shrug, running his hands through his hair. Annabeth thought he looked so young in that moment—so tired and disheveled—that he could have walked right into a high school without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary. She was about to sit on the steps, but he took her hand and made her keep walking.

As he childishly swung their hands, Annabeth smiled. She wasn’t used to it yet, holding hands still seemed like more of a foreign concept, but Percy seemed completely comfortable interlacing their fingers. She thought it was maybe a good representation of their fates; forever intertwined and only able to be broken apart if they wished it so. “I wish," he started, “that we could see the stars better in LA." Percy cast his gaze towards the heavens and pushed himself up onto the trunk of Annabeth’s car. She mimicked his actions, and he effortlessly put his arm around her, resting his chin upon her head without a single hesitation.

Annabeth had noticed that about Percy. Hardly ever did he hesitate. Occasionally, during his shy moments, she would see him glance around before taking action or reach out twice before finally taking her hand. Though she had only known him for a little more than two weeks, she knew that he was crazy impulsive and only believed in thinking when it was beneficial to his writing.

As Annabeth carefully leaned into him, Percy remembered the first time he and his mother had packed up and went to Montauk for a week during the summer. He remembered thinking that he’d see stars, but being ultimately disappointed when he could see little more than he did in Los Angeles. He’d always be especially fond of astronomy when they taught it in class, though the oceanic units always came easier to him, and he couldn’t place why. The stars were relatively close, considering the vastness of the universe, which didn’t really make them anything special. They were bright, sure, but he could just look at the city lights. Or Annabeth’s eyes, maybe. Regardless, Percy didn’t know why the stars held such appeal, to himself and billions of other people, since they weren’t exceptional.

 _But maybe that’s it_ , he thought to himself as she leaned into him.  _Maybe it’s finding the beauty in less exceptional things, in order to watch them become exceptional before your very eyes._

Annabeth watched his expressions, which she’d found herself doing a lot lately. She could tell that he was writing something within his mind, considering some philosophical impossibility. Then, she smiled to herself because, in that moment, she was honestly, truly happy. No heavy heart, no bestowed hatred, no lingering bitterness. Maybe she wasn’t so good at affection and showing others that she loved them. Maybe she got a little uncomfortable when people wrapped her in tight hugs or rubbed her back with a certain gentleness. However, Percy had this adamance about closeness, and she figured that she would get used to it.

Easily, as though it were second nature, he lifted her legs so that they rested over his. She was more or less halfway on his lap, but Percy looked satisfied with how they were sitting, staring up at the sky and looking for stars he couldn’t see. The lively city lights faded out the stars, not to mention the stunning amount of air pollution in bigger cities like LA. He turned his gaze from the hopeless sky and looked at Annabeth. As if he couldn’t help himself, Percy reached out and pushed a curl out of her face, examining it for a moment before he said, “Remember earlier?"

Annabeth wanted to return the affection, but she wasn’t sure how. She’d never been the type to go to parties and shove her hands down boys’ pants or anything, which left her to be more or less fairly inexperienced. She’d kissed a boy, of course, and she’d even made out with Luke once when he showed up at her house drunk in high school, but she knew nothing about relationships. A bit awkwardly, she reached out and tapped his hand twice so that he stopped leaning on it, then took it away from him, holding it in her own. Maybe she was new at the whole ‘expressing love’ type thing, but Percy smiled anyways. “Be a little more specific," she suggested, “which ‘earlier’?"

When Annabeth looked up at him, no longer focused on how odd it was to be the one holding  _his_  hand and not the other way around, she noticed how close they were. If anyone were to drive by in this moment, they wouldn’t hesitate in assuming that Percy and Annabeth were together. Annabeth was pretty sure that even  _she_  would have assumed that. She held her breath, and as much as she would like to say that it was because he was breathtaking, it was more because she wasn’t sure if her breath was so fresh at the moment. He smiled as if he’d heard the thought, sleepily burying his face in her shoulder, and she was relieved at the fact that they weren’t face to face. Percy was ridiculously tempting, especially with his eyes clouded with sleep and appeared more of a silvery green in the moonlight. It wasn’t fair. “When we were talking about us. A few days ago. In the car."

"Yeah," she said immediately, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve. “I remember." He pulled back, allowing a reasonable amount of space between them, which she both appreciated and frowned at.

He studied her for a moment, and Annabeth felt transparent. She thought about how messy her hair must have been, how awful she must have looked in an old t-shirt of her dad’s paired with an old jacket and sweatpants, how much she wished she would have brushed her teeth before leaving. His eyes scanned her face, but they didn’t seem to be searching. Just observing her, her mannerisms and her reactions, the way her eyes looked and the way her cheeks tinted rose. Percy wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like he did in that moment; like he was missing something, but also like he had everything he’d ever need right before his eyes. He traced her jaw with his hand, his thumb stuttering for a moment over her lips. “And?"

"I don’t get it," she said, trying to calm the effect he was having on her. “I don’t know how it happened in 14 days."

"Maybe because it happened in a million other lifetimes," Percy suggested, leaning forward and dropping his free, shaking hand to her knee. Something about her threw him off balance, left his senses in overdrive, and made his heart race. “Soul mates, remember?"

"They don’t always have to be romantic," she said fondly, laughing a little. “I remember. Thalia, at Wendy’s, didn’t even know what to say to you. No one ever talks to her like that."

"Like how?"

"Like… you aren’t intimidated. Like you’re willing to argue. Most guys would give up," Annabeth divulged. " _I_  would probably give up. Thalia can be a little scary."

"I’ve given up too many times, I guess. I just decided to try a different tactic," Percy shared. It wasn’t far from the truth. Rachel Dare was someone he had dated for three years, then as soon as she mentioned she wanted to go to an art school in a faraway state, he let her go. She said she’d call, and she did, a time or two. But Percy knew it was done, and he gave up. He gave up against bullies when he was in middle school, stopped even telling the teachers when so-and-so punched him or called him names. Percy was ambitious, sure, and he was strong, sure, but when it came to things that seemed hopeless? He wasn’t always the most optimistic of guys.

"Luring girls in with bullshit fortunes?"

Percy laughed, gripping her hand tightly. He watched expressions move across her face, and she watched him watch her. “You know," he said, inhaling deeply, “I would  _love_  to kiss you right now, but I haven’t brushed my teeth and I’m so tired that I might not even remember it tomorrow." Still, it was tempting as Annabeth’s eyes lit up at his statement. Maybe he couldn’t see many stars in LA, but he decided her eyes would suffice.

She couldn’t help but appreciate his honesty. It was one of the first things she’d grown to appreciate about Percy. He didn’t hold things back, and when he did, Percy had a very good reason to do so. “Looks like you’ve missed your window," she teased, disentangling their hands and hesitantly reaching up to fix his hair. She made it more messy in the end, but Percy didn’t seem too bothered.

He raised an eyebrow, biting his lip in a way that made Annabeth want to ignore the fact that they hadn’t brushed their teeth. “Are you  _sure_  I did?"

"Yes."

"What if I asked you to go inside with me right now and brush our teeth, then take care of business?"

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Business?’"

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know. The thing."

"That’s vague," she commented. “The ‘thing’ could refer to so much."

"Annabeth," Percy said, half-amused and half-frustrated. She laughed and he smiled. “The big kiss, the one that everyone ‘aw’s over and decides that’s how they want  _their_  first kiss to be. The one that let’s us know we’re soul mates, et cetera."

"I thought you were tired?"

"I am," he assured her. “In fact, I feel like I could pass out at any minute, but I am a guy and I am not passing up this conversation." She snorted in laughter, just like he’d hoped she would, and Percy noticed that she’d been smiling and laughing a lot more. He could only hope that it was a result of his presence.

"What if we go inside and go to bed, then pick this up in the morning?" she suggested, maneuvering her way off her trunk. “Falling asleep during the big kiss would not be ideal."

Once he was on his feet, she took his hand and held it tightly, palm against palm, even as they passed through the doorway. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?"

She rolled her eyes, giving him a sarcastic look. “Seriously, Percy?"

"What?" Instead of stopping in the living room, she held his hand on her way down the hallway before turning into her room. “Right, so… night." He retracted his hand from hers and stepped away.

"Oh my god," Annabeth said, dropping her face into her hands. “My soul mate is an idiot."

"What did I do?" he asked defensively.

"Percy," she said, “we said we were going to sleep. I brought you to  _my_  room."

He blushed a little. “And?"

"The couch isn’t comfortable."

Percy shrugged, smiling a little, and she wondered how someone so confident and amicable could be so shy. “It’s fine."

"Percy Jackson, I am tired and I swear to god—"

"Okay!" he said through a laugh, “all right. Am I against the wall or on the other side?"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him, sharply gesturing for him to lay down, and he decided he should take the side closest to the wall. She laid down after him, flicking off her lamp light and resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know why you felt the need to over-analyze that."

"I got nervous," Percy admitted, wrapping his arm around her. “You make me so nervous, Annabeth Chase." He could smell the light lemon from her hair; he’d never particularly appreciated the scent of the sour citrus, but now it was intoxicating.  _She_  was intoxicating.

"Why?" Annabeth questioned, and he couldn’t resist pulling her even closer.

"You just do. You intimidate me," Percy said, laughing a little.

"I’m sleepy," she announced.

"Right, me too," he agreed. “Tomorrow, okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"But what if—"

"Dude," Annabeth interrupted, eliciting a smile from Percy, “let me sleep."

"I’m just making sure it’s not sleep delirium affecting our decisions." She sighed, her breath falling across his collarbones in a way that made him inhale sharply. “Sorry," he managed.

"It’s fine," she said. “Night." And with that, Annabeth held onto Percy’s shirt tightly, her breaths becoming softer and deeper until he was positive she was asleep.

It’d been so long since he’d slept in a bed with someone. He was so used to lying down and waking up alone that Annabeth’s cheek upon his shoulder was enchanting, because for once he wasn’t alone. Sure, he and Rachel had shared a bed here and there when they’d passed out during a movie night or “study" session. But it’d been a very long time since he’d fallen asleep with someone, hearing their last thoughts of the day and treasuring the first ones in the morning. He had completely forgotten how reassuring it was to have someone to pull closer, to have someone to protect.

Rachel had never really needed help. She was a free spirit, through and through—the kind of person who abhorred sitting in one place for too long. She wanted to run away every weekend and see new places. In the end, she had wanted someone to sweep her off her feet, and Percy wasn’t that guy. He wanted to be, at the time, but now he couldn’t be more glad that fate hadn’t allowed him to. The fingers splayed across his chest were tan, not pale and freckled. The hair tickling his jaw was blonde, not fiery red. The contrast was evident, but Percy was still mind blown by his luck.

Even in the midst of a curse, he managed to be the luckiest guy on earth.

Before Annabeth had tiptoed into the living room, he hadn’t been sleeping very well. In fact, he’d been waking up on a near hourly basis, each time having the strange feeling that something was missing. And only here, with Annabeth’s chest gently rising and falling, Percy realized what it was.

He listened to her even breathing, which may have been a little odd, but he figured he got some kind of free pass to do so, seeing as he was her soul mate. Fate was sealed. He couldn’t be weird enough to drive her away anymore.

Percy closed his eyes, matching the pace of her breaths, and he finally fell asleep.

**xxxxx**

When Percy woke up, he had a small flashback to his first time with Rachel. The bed was warm, showing that a body had previously been there, but when he reached over, all he felt was sheets. His eyes fluttered open to see a light grey wall, and he rolled over. Blinking several times, he made out the blurry figure of Annabeth in the doorway. “Hey," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that she was freshly showered and already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, her toothbrush casually swaying in her left hand. Percy’s eyes widened an exceptional amount, and Annabeth laughed. “We’re just waiting on you," she sang, suppressing her butterflies at the happenings soon to happen and his messy hair.

"Uh, right," he stuttered gracelessly. “So…" He stared blankly at her for a second. He’d always hated planning for things that were supposed to be unexpected.

She rolled her eyes. “Percy Jackson, go brush your teeth."

He laughed freely, and Annabeth couldn’t suppress her smile. “Yes ma’am." He sat up and stretched, cracking a few joints here and there, literally rolling out of bed, his heart beating so fast that he was a little concerned he would have a heart attack before he even managed to kiss her.

He brushed his teeth quickly, with his borrowed toothbrush, and turned off the faucet with haste. “Nope!" he heard Annabeth yell from somewhere down the hall. “No way!" Rolling his eyes with admittedly a lot of admiration, Percy turned the faucet back on and brushed his teeth  _again_. He shut off the hot water, pausing for a moment. “Okay!"

Percy smiled, glancing at himself in the mirror and watching his smile wane. He patted his hair down, attempting to tame his wild mane but ultimately failing. “Don’t ruin this," he coached himself, moving to try and get rid of some of the awful wrinkles in his shirt. Percy gave himself a once-over in the mirror, tapping on the counter nervously. “Okay, you look decent. Go get her." He sanded his hands together before the mirror, blowing air onto his palms for good luck, and he started down the hallway.

Sadly, his curse hadn’t completely gone away. Basically, he tripped over a sneaky rug that appeared out of nowhere, leaving him face down on the ground with a whole lot less confidence than he’d had around two seconds earlier. He heard a rustling in the kitchen, the sound of someone putting a glass down before Annabeth appeared before him. “Did you…fall?"

Percy laughed nervously. “Uh, maybe?"

She chuckled and smiled, moving so that she was sitting down beside him. He suddenly felt awfully self-conscious about his wrinkled shirt and his messy hair, because Annabeth looked perfect—like she always did. “Idiot," she said simply, rolling him over, leaning down and maybe giving Percy the best kiss of his life.

He smiled so big that she kissed his teeth for a moment, and at that point they both started laughing so hard that they had to pull back. He knew he was blushing, and Annabeth felt a little silly for kissing his teeth, but he sat up and lifted her onto his lap easily. “Take two?" Percy suggested, his stomach turning over in the best way. The light from a window caught her face, making her tan skin look so honestly flawless that Percy thought he could die happy.

She laughed, and this time he kissed her. Their expressions both slowly melted from giddy happiness to intensity, and Annabeth silently commended him for being such a good kisser. Maybe not a  _good_  kisser, per se. It seemed like the wrong word. Percy was a  _soulful_  kisser. He had a way of packing so much fondness into a single press of his lips that overwhelmed Annabeth and probably drove all the other girls he kissed crazy. The angle wasn’t so weird this time, and when he placed his hand on the back of her neck to bring her closer, Annabeth’s stomach bottomed out.

Percy couldn’t breathe. Oh  _god_ , he was going to die from lack of oxygen, but it would be worth it. He didn’t want it to end, because he felt like the kiss had just began. It was definitely their first kiss, yet he couldn’t shake the notion that he’d kissed her before. It made him think about soul mates, about the start of it all, and about they way that they had to have known each other in another lifetime. No two souls could just  _find_  each other and have this perfect of a connection the first go around. Everything about her felt oddly foreign, yet achingly familiar.

He pulled back for a moment, maybe managing two breaths, before he leaned forward again. He never wanted to lose that feeling, the feeling that he was so anchored to Annabeth yet floating on air. Just like he’d remembered how much he loved having someone to fall asleep with, Percy remembered how much he loved kissing the person he liked. It often made him feel light-headed from happiness, so overjoyed that he tingled right down to his toes, and embarrassed as he flushed at the intimacy.  _Why didn’t I do this earlier?_  he thought to himself as Annabeth threaded her hands around his neck.

He finally pulled back, breathing somewhere between ‘exhausted cow’ and ‘I just ran a 100-mile marathon.’

Annabeth dropped her forehead to his gently, and Percy got this weird feeling like his stomach was getting antsy, jumping up and down and tying itself into knots. He craved her lips now, worse than ever, so he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against the corner of her mouth. “What’s the verdict?" Percy mumbled, his breath fanning across Annabeth’s face, making her shiver. “Are we soul mates?"

She smiled, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him promptly before nodding. “I’d say yes."

He smiled brightly, and Annabeth reciprocated it. As though she didn’t weigh more than a pound, Percy stood up and carried her with him into the kitchen. He set her on the counter, unable to resist kissing her just one more time. She smiled softly, fidgeting with his shirt sleeves, and he moved on to kiss her cheek, then her jaw, then the junction between her ear and her mandible. Childishly, he blew air in her ear which made Annabeth jump and gently push him away as she laughed.

"You idiot," she said, too happy to be angry and too infatuated to even hate him a little for it. “Do I still get fortunes?"

Percy smiled fondly, looking around on the counter for his wallet and keys, knowing that the fortunes would be around that general area. “Of course," he answered, finally finding the stack just behind a potted flower. Dramatically, he fished one out of the pile and cleared his throat. "’ _You have started to see things in a new light, and only more will begin to unfold._ ’"

He brought it over to her, allowing Annabeth to take it and re-read it as she swung her feet in pure content. “This is fitting, isn’t it?"

"It’s fate," Percy corrected simply. “Your lucky numbers are 7, 6, 85, 62, 8, and 37. And I need to call my mom," he said, unable to refrain from kissing her cheek again. “She’ll want to hear about this."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Mama’s boy."

"Duh," he said, winking at her. “Is there coffee?"

She smiled. “Well, I  _was_  in the middle of making it when you fell."

"Ha ha," Percy replied sarcastically. “I’ll have you know that that caused me a supreme amount of my man pride."

Annabeth shrugged. “You redeemed yourself by being a good kisser."

He wandered over to the coffee pot, finishing the job off. “I am?"

"Correct me if I’m wrong," she started, “but I think I just told you that you were."

He smiled so big he had to bring a hand up to his face and convince himself not to grin. Percy turned, giving her a look. “Little Miss Sarcastic over here."

"You could have just taken the compliment," she suggested, returning the same look.

He stepped over to stand in front of her. “No one’s ever told me I’m a good kisser. I wasn’t sure how to react."

She punched his shoulder. “Act like a twenty-three year old man! Smirk at me and say ‘I know’!"

Percy chuckled, leaning his forehead on hers. “I’m glad we decided to be romantic soul mates."

When he kissed her that time, Annabeth felt like their connection was palpable. She placed her hand on his chest, and she realized that their pulses were on the same pace, as though they’d been one person at some point, but separated, destined to search for each other forever. Just like the old Greek myth. For the first time, she truly believed in soul mates, and the spinning of her head after he pulled away let her know that they were.

He smiled, and she noticed that it wasn’t an undefinable smile that said he knew more than her. Annabeth felt like the smile told her all the secrets she didn’t know yet, which made her want to take a picture of him in that moment. His hair was messy, his face so bright and lively that it made her spirit soar just a little. She thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind waking up to that smile every day, and falling asleep to it every night.

"Coffee?" he questioned, staring blatantly at her eyes. “Also, will you marry me?"

Annabeth laughed, saying a simple, “yes." Maybe to both, maybe to one of them, but he kissed her anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secret to the letters (it's as if you we're using a number keypad; 2 - ABC, 3 - DEF, etc):
> 
> 3-2-8-3 || F-A-T-E  
> 2-4-2-6-2-3 || C-H-A-N-C-E  
> 5-8-2-5 || L-U-C-K  
> 3-3-7-8-4-6-9 || D-E-S-T-I-N-Y  
> 2-3-8-3-6-8-8-7-3 || A-D-V-E-N-T-U-R-E  
> 3-6-7-8-8-6-3 || F-O-R-T-U-N-E  
> 3-3-2-4-7-4-6-6 || D-E-C-I-S-I-O-N  
> 2-5-3-2-8-6-7-9 || A-L-E-A-T-O-R-Y  
> 3-6-7-3-8-3-7 || F-O-R-E-V-E-R  
> 7-6-8-5-6-2-8-3-7 || S-O-U-L-M-A-T-E-S


End file.
